


Loyalty

by LenoreMorella



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Appearances from other idols, Crimes & Criminals, Established Relationship, M/M, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoreMorella/pseuds/LenoreMorella
Summary: Things are never as easy as they should to be.Minseok tries again and again to get closer to his husband of 3 weeks, but he doesn’t seem to be having too much success. Yifan is constantly stuck between keeping his husband happy, keeping him safe at all costs, and moving forward with his business. Chanyeol is perfectly content with his relationship of seven years, and doesn’t understand why all of his friends are on his case about taking the next big step. What use is spousal privilege anyway? There’s only one thing that Yixing’s life revolves around, and that is his work. So why is this kid now suddenly taking over the number one spot on his priorities list? Luhan is stuck in the middle of everything.Also, who killed Baekhyun, and why?Yes, things are not as easy as they should be. Definitely not as easy as they were a month ago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work that I posted on here, so I really hope you'll find it enjoyable! Please feel free to comment whatever thoughts you have on this story, all comments are kindly welcomed!
> 
> The first few chapters will be mostly introductory, giving basic information about the characters and their respective personalities in this story. I should mention that this is in no way how I imagine the real life idols to be like, and I by no means try to imply this is how they are. This is just a work of fiction that happens to be inspired by them, and nothing more.
> 
> I don't want to say this every time I post a chapter, so I will only say this once. This story will feature quite heavy themes and portrayals of characters that some might be uncomfortable with. If that is the case, I suggest you go back. By no means do I hate or dislike any of the people that have inspired this story, and don't want to paint them in any negative light. Again, this is just a work of fiction.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this story and will look forward for more!

Minseok looked at the stained glass windows while he waited. He’d always considered them to be a thing of beauty, but he’s never really paid attention to them. The light travelled through them, and spread in a beautiful mosaic of red, green, pink, bright yellow, and blue. It was a pretty image, for sure. Still, he didn’t much care for such things.

He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a church for a reason other than business.

Not even for his wedding day. Fortunately, Jongdae wasn’t religious either, so there was no need to hold a ceremony in a chapel. He wouldn’t have had a problem with it if his fiancé wanted to, however.

The place was empty and quiet, deserted almost. He was glad Priest Johyun made sure the church would be quiet that night. Minseok had a few things to hold over the priest’s head. It would be a true shame if a man of the cloth would have ugly rumors surrounding him. Thankfully, Minseok’s status as one of The Scorpions earned him certain perks, such as having the church open for him to hold a private conversation.

Looking away from the stained glass windows, he checked his watch.

12:15 a.m.

Of course he would be late. Minseok didn’t particularly like waiting, but this matter could not be discussed in any other location, and he refused to postpone it.

After one more minute passed, the doors to the church opened. Minseok checked his watch again.

12:16

He was 16 minutes too late. And here he thought Baekhyun was always punctual. Apparently not for him, and not for secret meetings held at midnight in a chapel.

“Well hello, hyung! I hope you didn’t wait long!”

Minseok turned to look away from the beautiful view of the cascading, multicolored light, to see Baekhyun strut into the church, his shoes clacking loudly on the floor, making it creak. He distantly thought how old the church was.

“You’re late. We’ve agreed on 12 o’clock.”

Baekhyun stopped in front of him, and the smell of his obnoxious and probably very expensive cologne overwhelmed Minseok’s nostrils, making him frown. The younger had the same annoying smirk on his handsome face he always had, the same smug posture, the usual attention seeking attire, which this time consisted of a dark blue suit, paired with a bright purple and yellow tie, and the usual black coat over everything. It was safe to say MInseok wanted to punch him right in his perfect teeth. Even more so after today’s discovery.

“To be fair, _you’ve_ agreed on 12 o’clock. I never said I wanted to meet at that time,” he answered with an exaggerated wave of his hand while he walked from spot to spot, akin a dog that hasn’t been walked. Minseok, however, was unimpressed.

“Yet here you are.” Baekhyun was no longer facing him now, choosing instead to ogle the stained glass, just as he had done earlier. Perhaps the arrangement of strident colors was to his liking.

“You asked to meet me in private, hyung, so it _must_ be important. There was no way I could ignore my curiosity.” Minseok contemplated how easy it would be to just get out his gun and shoot Baekhyun right there. His fingers twitched as he thought of the blood spluttering the stained glass, and the possibility of never hearing Baekhyun’s annoying voice ever again.

“You know why I asked you here.”

Baekhyun turned abruptly, a crazed look overtaking his eyes for a fraction of a second before he pulled himself together. He smiled as usual, a faux innocent look on his face, a sly smile on his lips.

“Why, if I knew, would I have come?” his voice raised a few notes, echoing in the old and empty church.

“Of course you would have,”

“But hyung,” he said as soon as Minseok finished his sentence, “I came here because I was curious what you had to tell me. It’s not every day you ask for a private conversation with me.” The younger started walking again from spot to spot, before settling at a reasonable distance. “Actually, this might be the longest conversation we’ve had in a while.”

Minseok scowled. “There’s a reason for that.”

“Several reasons, I’d say,” Baekhyun did one more turn, looking around the church with a relatively calm expression. “After all, isn’t it because of you we had to lay low? We could have met more if you hadn’t shot that cop.”

Minseok’s anger was threatening to tip over, as was his patience. He fisted his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for his gun. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He refused to, at least until he got his answers.

Baekhyun smiled more at his obviously pissed off expression. “It’s alright hyung, I get it. I’ve always supported you and your decision, you know? I would have done the same if someone was snooping around my beau.” Minseok could almost sneer at the irony. “Who, by the way, I’ve heard you’ve married. Congratulations. I’m kind of offended you haven’t invited me to the ceremony, but then again, you haven’t invited anyone. Why is that?”

He willed himself to keep his face void of any emotion, but it was extremely hard to show anything other than complete anger when Baekhyun was around. “There was no need. Also, we were supposed to lay low. A wedding is hardly laying low.”

Baekhyun pouted. “So you didn’t offer your little husband a dream wedding? That’s cruel, hyung.”

Minseok tightened his fist so much he could feel his fingernails piercing the skin of his palms. He most definitely didn’t like the way Baekhyun was talking about Jongdae.

“How is he, by the way? Will you introduce him to us?”

 _No,_ he wanted to say. Instead, he fixed the other with a hard glare, looking straight into his eyes. “You know how he is, Baekhyun. You’ve had him followed for a while now.”

The younger faked a shocked expression, clutching at his chest mockingly with wide eyes. “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about, hyung. I have no reason to follow your husband around. Also-“

“Don’t fucking lie, Byun.” His cold tone ranged through the church. Minseok was usually soft spoken and calm, but when he lost his composure, it wasn’t a pretty sight. He’s had a few memorable incidents, and ripping Byun Baekhyun’s head off would definitely qualify through his less than calm episodes.

“I know it was you. You’ve had him followed from university home with one of your cars, and you had him watched in class by one of your mongrels.”

Baekhyun’s expression turned serious. He was no longer smiling, no longer smug, but retained his straight posture, holding his head high and starring down at Minseok with an apparent calm demeanor. However, he clutched his pistol in his right hand inside his pocket, finger already on the trigger in case of need.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out sooner or later? Did you think _he_ wouldn’t notice?”

The silence was loud between them, and Minseok took advantage of it to calm his breathing down. It wouldn’t do him any good to snap at the other. He was more than certain he couldn’t just up and kill him. After the stunt from a month ago, he was wary. While he couldn’t be kicked out of the organization, he would rather not stain any of those relations. Yifan and Chanyeol had taken his side once; he doubted they would again.

“To be fair hyung, I was curious.” Baekhyun began, a faint of a smile on his face again. “You got married out of nowhere, with a boy you shot a cop for. I was curious as to who he was-“

“It’s none of your damn business, Byun,”

“-and what you saw in him. I wondered if you have him watched, like how Yifan hyung does. I wondered if he was safe.”

Minseok frowned. Baekhyun was, indeed, a great liar. It was just one of his many disgusting talents. “Don’t pretend to care for him. You don’t give a shit about what happens to him, that’s not why you had him watched.”

Baekhyun pouted once more, and it only made Minseok angrier. “Now that’s rude. Of course I would care about the spouse of my business partner.”

“Like hell you would. And if I had it my way, we’d be no business partners. All you know to bring is trouble and headaches.”

The younger sneers at him, a cruel glint in his eye. “Well fortunately for me, you don’t make those choices, hyung. Objectively speaking, I’m more valuable than you.”

“Ha. Like hell you are.”

“I brought more money and more contacts. All my gigs far outperform yours. If anything, _you’re_ the one bringing trouble, shooting up cops as you please-“

“Watch it, Byun-“

“I should thank you, really,” a razor sharp smirk on his face and cruelty in his eyes, this was the true Byun Baekhyun hidden behind the extravagant and obnoxiously pleasant exterior. “My girls have been _fully_ busy since the streets became quiet. Business is booming like never before. Maybe you should off some more dogs.”

Minseok was quiet for a second. He ignored Baekhyun’s jabs and tried to compose himself.

“Did Kris make you do it? Did he ask you to follow him around?” he already knew the answer, but he wondered if Baekhyun would lie. Yifan definitely knew he got married, and since he asked them to keep quiet and lay low, he’d have told Minseok if he had people watching Jongdae. Hell, Yifan didn’t have people on anyone else other than his husband.

“No, he didn’t. He also doesn’t know I was watching Jongdae.” He didn’t like the way his husband’s name came out of Baekhyun’s mouth. He wanted to rip out his tongue and make him swallow it.

“Then why?”

Another condescending smirk and overly smug look. “I already told you. I was curious.”

Damn him.

Minseok wasn’t going to solve anything like this. Baekhyun was a puzzle, an array of colors and smells and too many agendas for him to solve on his own. Baekhyun’s brain was a mass of wires, all intertwined and twisted together to fit inside his head, all buzzing and carrying a different current, electrocuting anyone that dared touch one.

He’d never liked him, since the very moment he’d met him, the moment Yixing vouched for him and Yifan agreed to take him as some sort of honorary member of their organization. Baekhyun reeked of rats and snakes, and Minseok didn’t need parasites messing with his business. Unfortunately for him, just like Baekhyun had said, he didn’t make those decisions. So no matter how much he despised him, no matter how much he wanted to cut him open like a fish, he couldn’t; Yifan thought him useful, and Yifan was almost never wrong.

“Well, I hope you sated your curiosity. And I suggest you watch it; you know what they say about curiosity, after all;”

“Yes, yes, it killed the cat, how funny,” the Baekhyun that liked to gesticulate and exaggerate was back. Oh joy. “If it bothers you so much, I’ll stop. No more watching your little husband.”

“Hm. Good-“

“However, one has to wonder,” he cut off Minseok without looking at him, staring intensely at the church doors before looking at the older again. “What _did_ you see in him that made you go to such lengths?”

Minseok narrowed his eyes as he stared Baekhyun down. “Haven’t I made it clear that it’s none of your business?”

“And haven’t I made it clear I’m curious? C’mon hyung, humor me,”

The conversation was going nowhere, and Minseok was eager to leave the old church, and hurry home to his dearest, who was probably sleeping by now. Talking to Baekhyun was draining him. It would be easier to pull out his teeth with his bare hands than try to reason with the other.

“I’ve killed a cop, Baekhyun. What makes you think I won’t kill you as well?”

“I mean, if you really wanted me dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we?”

Minseok’s had enough. He didn’t see any reason why he should stick around anymore. He took one more look at his watch.

01:05 a.m.

He’d wasted quite some time talking to the other and getting angry, though he suspected more time was spent in silence than talking. He turned to leave, not sparing Baekhyun another glance as he said, “I’ll only warn you one more time, Byun. Stop following Jongdae around if you value your life at all. Next time I won’t be so kind.”

He started walking, his steps loud on the creaking floor. He didn’t turn to look at the younger when he heard him talk, nor did he stop. “Just so you know hyung, I’m not the only fly on the wall. If I were you, I’d control my temper. Next time you might not meet someone as nice as me.” Unfortunately for him, he opened the doors of the church, and was out of the building before Baekhyun could continue.

Minseok walked to his car, and got in without a word to his driver. Jaehyun started the car right away, and before he knew it, Minseok was lost in thought.

He remembered how scared Jongdae looked when MInseok told him that no, he didn’t have him followed home or watched during his classes. His young husband’s eyes started to water, and for the first time in almost two weeks, Jongdae collapsed in his arms and cried into his chest as Minseok promised him to take care of everything.

Finding out whose car had been following the vehicle his driver took Jongdae to and from university with was not that hard, and when he discovered Baekhyun’s name was attached all he could think was _I was right._

After that, it had been just a matter of making two phone calls, one to Baekhyun, requesting the meeting under unknown intentions, and one to priest Johyun, to ensure the meeting place he had in mind would be a safe spot. Minseok had also texted Kris somewhere between the two phone calls, to let him know he and Baekhyun would meet. The reason was not specified, but he would clear that out with the head of their organization later. Now, all he could think of was getting home and hugging, and hopefully kissing his young husband until he fell asleep.

Who knew married life would be so cruel, but so sweet at the same time.

His neighborhood was quiet, as always. Minseok liked the streets calm and clean, and Chanyeol had no problem ensuring his wish would be granted. As much as Minseok enjoyed the adrenaline running through his veins, he would rather have his home quiet; he was sure Jongdae would prefer it that way.

Since he’s gotten married, he made sure the building and his apartment were watched constantly. He had a few people watching Jongdae as well; however, they were much more subtle than Baekhyun’s sorry attempts at spies. Also, none of them were watching over Jongdae when he was in class.

Making his way up the stairs to his apartment, he spotted a few people watching him through the windows or the cracks in the doors. Not everyone in the building was under his pay; some unfortunate, boring citizens happened to live there as well, but MInseok suspected they knew better than to ask any questions about him. After all, not one leaf turned on his streets without him or Chanyeol knowing. Now however, he paid them no mind. He was way too excited to get to his beloved.

Opening the door to his apartment quietly, after shooting a look to one of his men that had been keeping guard, he got in with small steps. He half wished Jongdae would be sleeping soundly by now; he had been stressed with school lately, and had yet to get used to his new life style. As much as it pained Minseok, there was nothing he could do; Jongdae had been furious when he suggested having his exams arranged so he would pass them all with no trouble.

His wish had been granted when he noticed the younger laying on the couch, sound asleep. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, Minseok debated whether he should let him sleep there, or carry him to the bedroom. However, as he came closer to his sleeping spouse, he noticed the light frown on the other’s beautiful features, as well as faint tear tracks over his cheeks. Without thinking twice, he woke him up gently.

“Dae,” he whispered, shaking the other’s shoulder, “wake up, baby. Let’s get you in bed.”

The younger slowly opened his eyes, and Minseok felt his chest fill with happiness. Jongdae was, simply put, the light of his life.

“’M sorry, I wanted to wait for you,” his voice was laced with sleep, and his eyes heavy. “What time is it now?”

Minseok checked his watch quickly.

“It’s 01:34. Did you sleep for long?”

Jongdae groaned as he stretched his back. “Since 12:30 I think. I don’t really remember,”

“Well, it’s no matter. Let’s get you into bed, hmm? You had quite the day.” The younger only nodded, and got up before Minseok could offer to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom. The older almost cried out of frustration. Jongdae no longer allowed him such things, like carrying him to bed to sleep, or hugging him at night and kissing him in the morning. All of those were now things of the past, before their marriage. He barely got kisses these days.

Nonetheless, he followed him to the bedroom, and started taking off his suit. They still shared the bed, though Minseok suspected Jongdae was too afraid to kick him out, or request he sleep somewhere else; just like he was too afraid to deny Minseok the small kisses he sometimes craved. All the affection his husband showed him now was fueled by his fear of angering him, and it was eating away at Minseok day and night.

Jongdae got into bed first, and looked at him with tired eyes. He wanted to ask him something, Minseok could tell, but he refrained himself. Jongdae still looked startled and worried, so he wouldn’t push for an answer. He only hoped it wasn’t himself he was afraid of now.

He turned off the lights and got into bed, leaving the other enough space to not make him uncomfortable. As painful as it was to be away from him, he’d rather die than upset the other anymore. Jongdae would come around, he kept telling himself. It was only a matter of time until he got used to this.

Silence overtook the room completely, and in the dark, he couldn’t see his husband’s face. His thoughts flew to Baekhyun for a second, and he cursed himself for forgetting to text Kris and tell him their meeting has ended. He reasoned the other was probably sleeping, and thought of talking to him tomorrow morning.

He didn’t know how this would impact his already almost nonexistent relationship with Baekhyun, but everything would most likely be okay. They barely shared any business, legitimate or otherwise, so this incident would probably not mean anything in the grand scheme of things. At the end of the day, he was one of The Scorpions, while Baekhyun was just a puppy Yixing picked off the streets, with a pack of bitches following after him, ready to suck and fuck whoever he ordered.

Still, Minseok could not shake off the feeling that something was not right. Something felt off.

“Dae? Jongdae?” he whispered in the dark room, “are you asleep, baby?”

Silence was all around him, and all Minseok could concentrate on was the loud beating of his heart, and the unsettling feeling that something was _off._

“No,” Jongdae whispered back to him, “what is it?”

“I took care of it, baby.” He could hear Jongdae’s breath hitch in the quiet room. “The people that have been following you. They’ll stop.”

Several minutes passed in the dark, and neither of them said anything. Jongdae moved closer to him, resting on his side next to Minseok. Even in the dark, he could see the younger’s lovely, beautiful face, and his eyes, so expressive and so full of fear.

“Will I be…” he was shaking next to Minseok, and as much as he wanted to avoid making him uncomfortable, he couldn’t help turning to face him, and putting an arm over his shaking shoulders as to soothe him. He was so relieved when Jongdae didn’t flinch away.

“Will I be safe, Minseok?”

“As long as I’m alive, baby. Trust me; no one will ever hurt you.” He was more than sure of his words. He’d go to the ends of the world to keep Jongdae safe. Yifan’s stern face suddenly popped into his mind. He now definitely understood his boss. He reckoned he owed him an apology. Tomorrow then.

Jongdae said nothing more, and before long, his breathing evened out. He fell asleep, Minseok noted. He soon followed his husband, pleasure buzzing under his skin at the realization that his beloved fell asleep in his arms.

It was the first time since their wedding night. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a onetime occurrence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is it for the first chapter! I hope you found it interesting. Also, I already mentioned this once, but just because I imagine a character in one way, that doesn't mean that's how I think of the real life person behind the character. I don't have any negative feelings towards anyone here; if I did, I wouldn't write about them.
> 
> Not saying this particular chapter holds any important and significant information, but that is exactly what I'm saying. 
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is the second chapter to the story. This is another introductory chapter, but from the next one things will start moving on.
> 
> Sorry to any Nctzens that are reading. Please believe me when I say Yuta is my NCT bias, even if that might not come across from this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuta considered himself a very lucky person. So far, his life has been pretty great. Even things he considered complicated turned in his favor in the end.

He liked taking risks, as cliché as that sounded. When he got the opportunity to study in Korea for his final year of high school, he was more than exited. Fear wasn’t even part of the equation. As a few weeks passed by, he decided he’s made the right choice.

The high school was amazing, and everyone was nice to him. He’s made some friends, the teachers were nice, and the high school administration made sure he had no troubles with his classes. Korean turned out to be an easy language for him to learn, and had no problems integrating into a society that was foreign to him.

However, the best part of his new high school had to be his literature teacher. Mr. Kim Junmyeon was definitely the best teacher he’s ever had, and will probably ever have. He was kind, gentle, and so sweet it made Yuta want to cry of happiness whenever he saw his beautiful face. Of course his teacher had to be annoyingly beautiful as well, like an angel fallen from the heavens to grace the earth and its people. Yeah, Yuta had something of a crush on his Korean teacher.

And who wouldn’t, really? Mr. Kim was just so nice, it was impossible not to at least like him. Crushing on him was inevitable. It also didn’t help that he always asked Yuta if he understood the lesson, while looking at him with those beautiful eyes that always pulled him in. To sum up, he was completely smitten with his teacher.

There was, however, one problem. The person that always lightened up the classroom when he walked in, the one that made Yuta’s heart pound like crazy, the one that occupied most of Yuta’s (dirty) thoughts, Mr. Kim, was unfortunately –

“Cursed?” Yuta asked confused. Youngho, a fellow senior, only nodded while chewing on his sandwich.

“Yeah, dude. Everyone knows not to fall for Mr. Kim. He’s cursed, I’m telling you.”

“He is not cursed, what are you talking about?” Yerim, a junior that was good friends with them frowned.

Youngho shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat. Yerim rolled her eyes and turned to look at Yuta. “Don’t listen to him. Mr. Kim isn’t cursed-“

“Yeah he is-“ Sehun, another senior, interjected.

“What he _is_ though is _married.”_

Yuta didn’t see what relevance that had. “So? I just said he’s cute, nothing more.”

“And I just said he’s married, nothing more. Just stay away from him,” the girl concluded, and turned back to her phone.

“So is he cursed or not?” he asked once again, which made Yerim groan and leave the table, Sehun’s laughter behind her.

“Listen,” Sehun began, looking deep into Yuta’s eyes, “he is cursed. Whoever shows any interest in him, teacher or student, suddenly disappears.”

“Yeah right,” Yuta snorted, laughter stuck in his throat as soon as the other two seniors looked at him with serious faces. “You guys are joking, right?”

Youngho had finished his sandwich in the meantime. “No, we’re actually serious. There was this girl last year-“

“Two years ago,” Sehun corrected, staring even more intensely at Yuta. Or perhaps his face was just like that. Intense.

“-and she fell in love with Mr. Kim, yeah? But fell _hard_. She’d stare at him all the time in class, would write him love letters and sneak them under the door to his office. In the end, Mr. Kim told her to stop. She cried so hard she almost fainted!”

“You’re exaggerating,” Sehun rolled his eyes, but made no other remark. Youngho continued.

“The next day, after the whole debacle, she disappeared!”

“Just like that?” Yuta asked, skeptical of the new information received. He was sure the two of them were messing with him. This had to be some Korean joke he didn’t understand. Perhaps ‘being cursed’ in Korean was equivalent to ‘being hot as hell’.

“Yeah, just like that.” Sehun answered as Youngho nodded his head. “She only lived with her grandma, and she was gone as well. And no one asked a thing.”

“Not only that,” Youngho added, “but there was this other guy. He also fell in love with Mr. Kim. He wasn’t as desperate as that girl, but still.”

Yuta smiled, not believing a word the two were saying. He thought he’d play along. “And what happened to that one?”

“What happened to the other one as well,” Sehun answered, a small smile playing on his handsome face. “He disappeared. His family _moved_ out of nowhere.”

“That’s what happens to everyone that falls for him. They go crazy over him, start making these big love declarations and what no, and the next day they’re gone. Just like that.” Youngho said, as if that answered any questions.

Yuta didn’t say anything else. He didn’t understand why the two of them were making such a big deal of his little crush. He knew he should have kept it to himself. He didn’t even _have_ any intentions of ever confession to Mr. Kim anyway. After all, he’d leave for Japan at the end of the year, and his teacher was married apparently.

Still, he didn’t make any attempt to ignore his small crush on his teacher. How could he, when Mr. Kim was just so lovely? Each time Yuta was sure he’d gotten over said crush, Mr. Kim came to him in class, with his pretty smile and beautiful eyes, and would ask in a soft and sweet voice:

“Did you understand, Yuta? Do you have any questions?” and he’d fall more and more down the hole of ‘you should not think of your teacher like this, dumbass’. Mr. Kim would then go back to the front of the classroom, and Yuta could not help himself from appreciating his teacher’s shapely behind. Because not only was Mr. Kim’s face handsome, but his body was nothing short of beautiful either, and Yuta would love to hold him in his arms.

He still made no other move. He was completely content with his silent, distant observing (ogling) of Mr. Kim. So what if sometimes his staring was completely obvious to everyone but his teacher? So what if Sehun had to hit his chair every time that happened. As long as Mr. Kim didn’t see it, he concluded he’d be fine. It was perhaps in his favor that Mr. Kim was completely unsuspecting of the amount of students that would jump on him in a minute.

That was something he noticed. Mr. Kim had a lot of admirers, both teachers and students. However, no one made any moves. Which he didn’t entirely question, since Mr. Kim was, after all, married. To someone. It was apparently common knowledge that the literature teacher was married, from the many rumors that surrounded him and the ring on his finger. Still, no one _knew_ to whom he was tied to. There was no talk of Mr. Kim’s wife or husband in the school, since the whole subject of his love life was virtually untouched by fear of the _curse._

Said _curse_ also seemed to be common knowledge. Everyone was aware of it, whether they believed the rumor or not. Yuta himself though, remained skeptical of the whole thing.

His small crush turned slowly into something more. He wouldn’t say he was exactly _in love,_ but he was definitely falling for Mr. Kim as the days went by. Perhaps it started when he began going to Mr. Kim’s office to ask for help with different words in Korean and what not. Even if he was mostly used to the language, there were a few words and phrases he didn’t know, and why would he ask his friends when he could just go and admire (aka ogle) his favorite teacher up close? It also didn’t help that the teacher was even more handsome from a small distance.

And also, Yuta could now confirm his suspicion about the other’s marriage. He had clearly seen a silver band on Mr. Kim’s ring finger, and what he thought was a wedding picture on his desk. Of Mr. Kim and another man.

So Mr. Kim had a husband. Another Mr. Kim then.

Well, at least Yuta now knew he liked boys.

His friends had not stopped bugging him about his crush, while also warning him about the oh-so-dreaded curse every chance they get. It’s gotten to the point where Yuta was almost convinced that the two of them have made it up, and somehow got the whole school involved in it too, just to make fun of him and scare him.

“God, look at him. He’s basically eye-fucking him,” Youngho muttered to Sehun as the two of them silently observed Yuta, who was in turn silently observing Mr. Kim.

“A little more subtlety wouldn’t hurt, dude,” Sehun said to him. He hit Yuta’s chair once again to stop him from staring. That jolted his right up, and he glared at Sehun who only smirked back in response.

“I was just looking, ok?”

Youngho snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried. I’m sure even the teachers know you have the biggest boner for him.”

“You’re exaggerating, I swear.”

“No, I’m not,” Youngho shook his head. A small smile played on his lips. “Well, it was nice knowing you, I guess. Text us from beyond the grave.”

Yuta felt a cold shiver run down his spine. “Wait, you just said the people disappear, not that they _die._ ”

Sehun’s smirk got wider. “Scared now?”

“Don’t be silly,” Yuta frowned, trying to hide that yeah, he was scared. Or at least very much put off.

Youngho shrugged. “Well, I guess they don’t disappear to the Bahamas or anywhere sunny. But who knows, perhaps they all really just moved.”

They were all quiet for a short while, both Sehun and Youngho busy on their phones. Yuta tried to calm his raging nerves. He stole glances to Mr. Kim from time to time to see him still talking to some teacher Yuta didn’t know.

A sudden hit under his chair broke him out of his thoughts again. He looked at Sehun to see him grinning from ear to ear.

“What did I say about subtlety, hmm?”

Yuta ignored him. He was subtle. He _barely_ stared.

Against his better judgment (and his friends’ continuous warnings) he continued to go to Mr. Kim’s office after classes and beg him for help on either his homework, or on normal phrases and words in Korean he claimed not to know. Soon enough, he was visiting the other’s office every day, and trying to spend as much time with him as he could.

Mr. Kim, however, had yet to notice his obvious advances. Yuta was certain the teacher had no idea of his hidden intentions of being in his presence as much as possible. If he did, he probably didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. No one else came to ask him questions after classes anyway, probably because of that dumb curse that everybody was sure loomed over Mr. Kim’s head.

Yuta began to wonder if the teacher himself was aware of the curse. He never told Yuta to stop coming to him, and remained kind and sweet to him and everyone else, despite people apparently disappearing because they liked him a bit too much. It was strange, and it didn’t make sense in Yuta’s mind. Why would Mr. Kim continue to help him if he knew he was in danger?

He concluded the teacher didn’t know about the rumored curse. After all, this curse apparently targeted anyone that got close to him, but Mr. Kim was married. Did his husband not count? Was the other Mr. Kim perhaps affected in a different way? Maybe Mr. Kim’s husband had been taken away by the curse too, and he still wore the wedding ring, despite being a widower. That didn’t make sense either, however, since Mr. Kim was always so happy and lively. Or was he?

Yuta’s curiosity was starting to get the better of him. He wanted to know more, wanted to ask Mr. Kim himself. What happened to those students that had disappeared? Did Mr. Kim know? What were they like? What did they do so over the top that the curse got them? And how far was Yuta from disappearing too? Did spending extra time with the teacher in his office count? What about purposely lying so he’d see him? Did the intensity of his feelings matter, or was all of this acceptable to the curse if he only had a small crush?

As days went by with no possibility to get the answers he desired, Yuta decided to investigate himself. Unlike other times, he didn’t tell Youngho and Sehun; they’d only warn him again, and Yuta didn’t want to hear some lecture, he wanted to know the truth. What the hell was going on?

One day after classes had ended, he didn’t go to Mr. Kim’s office. Instead, he waited down the hall, and spied on the teacher’s door. He thought he might as well start with the center of the problem, right? Asking around for answers had already proven to be useless, and he was sure he’d get the same results time and time again.

As time went by and the teacher had yet to leave his office, Yuta thought sadly that Mr. Kim might have been waiting for him. Still, no matter how much he wanted to go there and see the other, to make sure he wasn’t upset, he restrained himself. He actually had no idea what he’d do once Mr. Kim left the office. Would he go inside to snoop around? Picking a lock couldn’t be that hard, right? Or perhaps he could follow Mr. Kim home, though that was a little creepy. He had no bad intentions, however! He only wanted to see… something, anything that could give him an answer.

Time went by, an hour, and then two. The door had yet to open, so Mr. Kim had yet to leave. Why was he still there? What was he doing? Maybe he had some papers to grade, or someone else came to him for help. Even though he would have seen someone going in.

Another hour went by, in which Yuta did nothing but laze around and watch the door. More minutes passed, more boredom, nothing else, nothing new. The door remained closely shut. The whole school was quiet by that point, and Yuta was wondering if perhaps his teacher had fainted or fallen asleep in there. Should he go check on him?

He looked at his phone to check the time again. It was getting late. Perhaps his teacher had really fallen ill. He debated for a long minute if he should go knock on the door. In the end, he left his hiding spot and marched to the office.

Once in front of the door, he raised his fist, and knocked once on the hard wood. He stared at the little plaque of Mr. Kim’s name. _Kim Junmyeon._ Where was Kim Junmyeon?

He knocked again, harder and for a longer period now. There was no answer from inside. He tried a third time. Nothing.

Heart hammering in his chest, Yuta reached for the door knob, before pressing down firmly and pushing the door.

It was locked.

He looked confusedly at the door, staring intensely at Mr. Kim’s name plaque, as if it would offer him any sort of answer. Where was his teacher? He’s been waiting for him all day, since classes ended and until now. He assumed the other was already inside the office when he started his mission, since that’s where Mr. Kim always was when he came to ask for help.

As he prepared to knock for the fourth time, he felt something sneaking around his middle, and pulling him backwards.

Yuta panicked, and as he struggled to free himself, he realized someone was holding him, the arm around his waist an iron grip he couldn’t escape. Before he could even react and scream, a cloth was pressed harshly against his mouth and nose. His lungs felt heavy, as if they were being filled with water. His vision was becoming hazier by the second.

The last thing he remembered seeing before he closed his eyes fully was the plaque on his teacher’s door, with his name nicely written on it.

 

*

 

The first thing Yuta noticed when his senses started coming back to him was that he couldn’t feel his body. He couldn’t move his arms, fingers, or toes. He could barely open his eyes. His eyelids felt so heavy, like they have been glued down. He couldn’t move.

The second thing he noticed were the voices. Two people talking, that much he could tell. However, there was no telling what they were saying. It was a different language, his tired mind supplied. It wasn’t Korean or Japanese, not even English. Something else, then. Something he didn’t know.

As the initial feeling of tiredness washed away, he tried to open his eyes again. He succeeded after a few futile tries, but he could barely see anything. As he tried to blink slowly, he distantly realized he could no longer hear the voices. The people have stopped talking. Or perhaps the ringing in his ears was so loud he couldn’t hear anything else.

“There he is, he’s waking up,” a gentle voice said, in Korean this time, but instead of the warmth he should have felt from such a welcoming voice, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

As Yuta’s vision cleared out more, he could make out the silhouette of someone in front of him. Must be the person with the gentle voice.

“Now, do you remember your name?” the gentle voice asked him. Yuta knew his name, but that was not what was on his mind right now.

“Where am I?” he muttered instead, shaking his head from side to side in hopes the ringing would go away. It only made him dizzy, so he stopped.

The gentle voice chuckled. “Now that’s a silly name. Your parents must be real jokesters,”

Yuta wanted to open his mouth and argue on behalf of his parents, but forming sentences was becoming harder and harder. As he tried to find the right words, another voice resounded around him.

“Is he still out of it?” this voice was deep, and Yuta felt himself shivering even more when he heard it. The ringing, too, got louder.

“He shouldn’t be,” the gentle voice said, accompanied by a gentle touch to Yuta’s forehead. “I think Tao gave him too much. He’ll come to his senses soon.”

The hand went from his forehead to his cheek, lightly slapping him. Something wet and cold was pressed to his lips, and before he knew it, water was running down his throat. Only then did he realize just how thirsty he was.

The more he drank, the better he felt. He could now move his fingers and toes, but nothing else. As he became more conscious, he registered a strong hold in his arms and legs. He was tied up, _oh god, he was tied up!_

He panicked right then and there, and started struggling. Water from the bottle he had been drinking drenched his shirt before the person that has been helping him drink took the bottle away.

What was happening? Where was he?

He looked around the room, his eyes darting all over the place. He couldn’t see anything. Everything was cloudy, just blurry figures he couldn’t make out in any way.

A hand gripped his jaw in a strong hold, and jerked his head in a different direction. Yuta was then face to face with a man he had never seen in his life. He looked pleasant enough, with kind eyes and handsome features, but his powerful hold on Yuta’s jaw was making him appear dangerous.

“Now that you’re with us, I will need you to answer some questions, please.”

“Wh-where the hell am I? What’s going on?”

The man chuckled as he grabbed a piece of paper from behind him. Yuta was cold. He realized he was on the floor, slouched against a hard wall.

“None of that, now. Please tell me, can you remember your name?”

Yuta breathed more and more unevenly, cold air filling his lungs. “Yes,” he breathed out the answer, watching as the man in front of him wrote something on the paper and continued to smile.

“And what is your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta.”

The man in front of him nodded. “Good, good. Tell me, do you remember your age?”

“18.”

The man smiled and nodded. He continued to ask several questions that Yuta reluctantly answered. Fear was deeply seated in his bones, and he could do nothing but obey the man in front of him.

“Do you have any illnesses that have not been documented?”

“Wh-what?”

The man looked at him straight in the eye, no longer smiling. “Please answer the question.”

“N-no. No illnesses.”

The smile was back. “Good.”

After that, there were no more questions. The man was busy writing whatever on the piece of paper. Yuta glanced around the dark, cold room. Further away from him, he could see a silhouette. Another man, tall, standing there unmoving and staring at them. Another shiver passed Yuta, and he didn’t know if it was because of the man, or because of the cold.

The tall man advanced slowly when he noticed him staring. Yuta’s heart started hammering in his chest, a drumming noise in his ears. He could feel his arms and legs pulsating against the bonds. What was going on?

When the man was closer, Yuta could still not distinguish his features. He was so tall, and Yuta was lying on the floor. He couldn’t see anything more than an intense gaze staring at him.

“He is healthy, just good to go.”

“Good,” the tall man said, voice deep and more chilling than the freezing room. Yuta could see smoke coming out as the other spoke. In his hysteria he thought of a dragon. He had been taken away by a dragon, and was going to get eaten.

Maybe that’s what happened to those students as well, Mr. Kim’s admirers. Maybe the dragon ate them too.

“Put him to sleep, Yixing. Then we’ll send him off.”

The man in front of Yuta smiled, and reached behind again. He turned back with a syringe in his hand, a clear liquid filling it. Panic, shock, they crashed over Yuta, and he started struggling against the bonds, fighting against something much stronger than him.

“Now, now, please do calm down. You won’t even feel this one, I promise.”

A sharp pain on the side of Yuta’s neck tore a scream right out of his throat. Tears ran down his cheeks as a cold ache spread from his neck and to his brain and body. The cold liquid travelled everywhere, and he could _feel it,_ freezing ice inside his body, going faster and faster through his veins. He could no longer feel his legs, then his arms and fingers, his body cold all over.

Before the icy chill reached his head, he thought that his friends have been right. He could see their faces, serious as they warned him to stay away.

As he looked at the tall man in front of him, he realized they have been right.

_Mr. Kim was really cursed after all._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that chapter, and thank you for reading!! I'll try to post the next one in a week as well, two weeks at most.
> 
> In the next chapter, Chanyeol and Luhan will appear too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! I'm back with another chapter before the exam session begins haha.
> 
> To be honest, this chapter was kind of hard for me to write, since I tried to include a lot of dialogue, which I find very difficult to write. I feel like my conversations don't flow well, and come off as awkward or unrealistic. Still, I tried my best with this one, so I hope you all will enjoy reading!

Business meetings held in the morning were never a good sign.

For legitimate businesses, meetings are usually held before, after, or during lunch. For less legitimate businesses, meetings are held in the evening, when the cover of darkness conceals most illicit affairs, and the unsuspecting citizens are enjoying their time with their families, or sleeping soundly in the cozy homes.

However, meetings held in the mornings were always a bad omen. It meant the matters at hand needed to be solved that very day. It meant they’d need finesse, and time, and subtlety. In short, it was almost never good news.

The room was silent as everyone took their seats at the large, rectangular table. This was the first time in over a month that the five of them have been in the same place at the same time. What should have been a nice reunion between friends was becoming an issue that needed to be dealt with.

“So Baekhyun’s dead,” Yifan announced from the head of the table, getting straight to the matter at hand. He lighted up a cigarette, despite his promise to his spouse that he’d try to abstain from the vice. This was a moment where he needed the added help of nicotine. Not that he was particularly sad or angry; more annoyed than anything else. He really would rather have stayed at home than deal with this.

“And we don’t know who killed him. This is fucking fantastic.” He said before taking a drag of said cigarette.

“It could be worse,” Yixing supplied helpfully, trying to lighten up the tension in the small room. He was seated at Kris’ right, an unfocused look on his face. “It could have been in a more public place, and have the police snooping around quicker.”

“Well, him being dead in an old church isn’t exactly the least suspicious thing,” Luhan said from across Yixing, a pissed off look looming over his pretty features. “Especially since that dumb priest called the police first thing, and then us.”

Chanyeol nodded his head, his flaming red hair flopping over his eyes. He sucked the smoke out a cigarette himself before speaking up. “Hyung’s right. This could have been taken care of much nicer, without the cops and the doctors getting involved. No offence, hyung,” he quickly added to Yixing, who waved him off with an ever-present gentle smile. They were seated next to each other as always, even if Yixing quite simply detested the cigarette smell. Still, he was always between the two smokers.

“So what the fuck do we do now?” Luhan asked.

Yifan sighed. This was already becoming too much of a hassle. He looked at Minseok, seated across from him at the end of the table. He had yet to say a word on the matter. “How was he when you met with him?”

Minseok shrugged. “Annoying as ever. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Wait, what?” Luhan exclaimed, looking between the two at his sides. “Minseok met with him?”

“Yes, last night.” Yifan answered.

“Well it’s settled then,” the older Chinese said. “Minseok killed him. Moving on-”

“I did not. Why would I?” the older contradicted, an offended look on his face. Even if he detested Baekhyun, he wouldn’t simply kill him without telling them.

“I don’t know, why did you even meet with him? In secret, of all things.” Luhan questioned, staring holes in the other’s eyes.

“It wasn’t in secret,” Yifan said, rubbing at his temples. He forgot how tiring this could be. A month of not having to deal with all of them in the same room was exhausting. He was thankful Chanyeol was keeping his silence so far. “I knew about it. Minseok told me.”

“But why did you meet with him in the first place, hyung?” And there went Yifan’s wish that the tall redhead would keep quiet.

“I warned him to stay the fuck away from Jongdae.”

Luhan looked even more confused. “Who the fuck is Jongdae?”

“His husband,” Yifan answered before Minseok could get mad, which he apparently already was, based on his clenched fists.

“Hyung, you got married?!” Chanyeol exclaimed, his cigarette falling out of his mouth on the table. Yixing grabbed it before Luhan could throw it away, and held it for the younger to take again once the shock had worn out. Even if he greatly disapproved of smoking and believed firmly that it was unhealthy, he was, above everything else, a good friend. Also, the taller would most likely just light another one, and his doctor’s instincts told him that poison taken once was not as harmful as poison taken twice.

“Yes, I did,” Minseok said with a dreamy smile, thinking of the husband he left at home cuddled up in the sheets. While he would’ve given his left lung to have Jongdae wake up in his arms, perhaps it was too soon for that.

“Congratulations then!” Chanyeol’s deep voice woke him out of his daydream. “But why didn’t you invite any of us? I would’ve loved to meet him!”

Minseok shook his head with a smile. “We were supposed to lay low, Chanyeol. And he didn’t want a big wedding.”

“Still,” the redhead pouted, a re-lighted cigarette in between his long fingers. “How old is he?”

“Who cares!” Luhan’s voice rang in the small room, only adding to Yifan’s slowly forming headache. “We can gossip later, let’s talk about the problem at hand!”

“Luhan is right. Why did you want to warn Baekhyun to stay away from your husband?” Yixing asked softly and calmly.

Minseok frowned, all the sweetness that came with thoughts of Jongdae being replaced by the anger that came with thoughts of Baekhyun. “He had a car following Jongdae around. Even had someone watching over him in class. Jongdae was so scared, I couldn’t just ignore it.”

Luhan kept quiet, contemplating all that he’s heard. Yifan took a long drag of his cigarette, and let the smoke out slowly as he spoke. “That doesn’t help us figure out who did it. So we still have nothing.”

“We won’t figure out who did it anyway,” Chanyeol chimed in, suddenly serious. “Baekhyun must have mixed around with the wrong crowd,” he thought for a moment, before adding “I mean, other than us.”

“Do you think someone knew he was working with us?” Luhan asked the others at the table. For a while, he got no answer.

“You think someone killed him for that? It makes no sense.” Minseok said in the end, fingers drumming on the table, he was so tired; he’d only had one cup of coffee that morning. He sadly thought how much he’d love a cappuccino right about then. “If they wanted to send a message, they should have gone for someone else, not him. There are plenty other people we are close to.”

“Maybe Baekhyun was onto something, and that’s why he had your husband followed around,” Luhan suggested, pointing at Minseok. “Or maybe you killed him yourself, and now you’re trying to find some excuse.”

The oldest rolled his eyes, not even bothering to get angry anymore. “If I wanted to kill him, I would have a long time ago, trust me. Also, I would have told you; it does me no good to leave him dead in the church, especially when we were supposed to keep a low profile.”

“I think it was something personal. Nothing to do with business,” Yixing spoke, getting in between the forming argument. “If it was for business, they would have taken the body away.”

“Or they could have left it there for the police to find; to send a message for us. We’re already under the radar a bit.” Yifan groaned, lighting another cigarette, Chanyeol following after him.

“They would have put it in a more public place if that was the case, though. No one found him but a crooked priest, who was already in our pocket.” Yixing supplied, trying to find logic in this whole mess. “Leaving him dead in the middle of the street would have sent a more powerful message.”

“We have that priest in our pocket for nothing. I hope he enjoys what’s coming for him,” Minseok said darkly, thoughts of how to deal with Priest Johyun already forming in his head. If there was something he disliked, it was disloyalty.

“So what do we do now?” Luhan asked, looking more frustrated by the second.

Yifan sighed, and decided it was time to get to work. Speculating around was not helping them in the slightest. It most definitely wouldn’t bring Baekhyun back. “We try and make sure this mess doesn’t get out of hand more,” he announced, looking at the others at the table. “Whoever killed him will come to light; that’s not important now.”

“I disagree, but whatever,” Luhan waved him off, waiting for further instructions. He was sure that knowing who offed one of their associates should have been top priority, but Kris called the shots.

“Yixing,” the doctor turned to look at Yifan as he heard his name. “Do you think you can get a hold of the autopsy report?”

Yixing checked his watch quickly. 8:08 a.m. He smiled happily. Dr. Song was on duty, which meant she’d be the one most likely conducting the autopsy. “Certainly,” he told Yifan.

“Good,” the head of the organization nodded. “Look over it. Do you think you’d be able to see the body, too?”

Yixing beamed warmly. “I think I’ll even be able to examine it myself.” The thought of performing an autopsy on Baekhyun’s corpse was making his skin burn with excitement.

“Talk to Minseok before you cut him open. Who knows what happened between their meeting and his death. Maybe we’ll find something that way.” The two in question nodded, and decided to sort out the details later.

“I’ll try to get a hold of the police report, but I can’t guarantee anything. There aren’t many people willing to do us favors anymore,” Yifan said, to which Luhan snorted.

“I wonder whose fault that is- Ow!” he yelped as Minseok hit him in the shin under a table, and even had the nerve to sneer at him afterwards. Such good friends were hard to find.

Kris ignored them both and continued to think up the course of action. “His illicit businesses will be split between us. We can’t risk anyone else taking them and finding out shit about us,”

Chanyeol looked worried as he said “But Baekhyun had other people he was working with; there’s no guarantee they won’t come for his gigs.”

Yifan shrugged. “We’ll just have to take them first, then. Make some deals, shoot them in the head, anything. We can’t have anyone knowing Minseok killed a cop-“

“Wow, it seems that problem just keeps coming up, huh-“ Luhan said, being ignored by everyone besides Minseok who had taken to glaring at him, his coffee deprived state only making him crankier.

“-and also can’t have them finding out what else we mess with. The less people know, the better. Especially people that don’t particularly like us.”

The other four at the table were quiet as they pondered on the new turn of events. Chanyeol spoke first. “Who’s taking what, then? I’m good with what I have, so no thank you,” he said, thinking of all his corners, as well as the old bar slash poker house he had hidden inside a cold alley.

“I think Luhan should take his brothels, while Minseok takes his casinos.” Yifan answered.

Luhan groaned and contemplated bashing his head on the table. He distantly remembered that time he bashed some fucker’s head on that very same table, and the disgust of dying in the same way as that bastard made him reconsider. “Why do I get the fucking brothels?”

“To be fair, there’s more money in brothels,” Minseok said, trying to appear amicable despite the grin on his face. He was glad; he didn’t want the damn brothel. It was much easier to cheat the books at the casinos.

“No the fuck there isn’t-“

“It’s settled then, Minseok takes the casinos, Luhan takes the brothels,” Yixing concluded smiling gently. Luhan sighed in defeat.

“Fine, fine.” He liked women well enough, and already had a joint of his own. He supposed he was rather good at being a pimp, as badly as that sounded. “Was he dealing in his brothels?” he asked Chanyeol, who nodded and answered with the cigarette in between his lips.

“Yeah, but not from us.” Luhan looked confusedly at Yifan, who didn’t seem to be surprised by the news. Figures. Yifan always knew everything somehow. Unlike Luhan, who was always the last one to hear the gossip. Once, Yifan had said it was because he didn’t ask that they didn’t tell him. Luhan had replied that how the fuck would he even know what to ask in order to get such news.

“Well, I guess he’ll deal from us now. Great.”

“It’s not so great. We’ll have to ask for more now, and who knows if Heechul will supply us with more.” Chanyeol said, paying attention now that his side of the business was being discussed.

“He will. We pay him, he gives us the goods. He’d be dumb not to follow the simplest deal there is,” Yifan said, Minsoek quickly agreeing with him. “But that’s not the problem now.” He waved his cigarette around, accidently passing by Yixing’s face, who scrunched up his face as the smoke invaded his nostrils.

Yifan pointed the cigarette at Chanyeol. “You go with Luhan and help him take the brothels.”

“Why me?!” the younger whined, getting defensive.

“Cause I’m going with Minseok to take the casinos,” Kris answered simply, not even bothering to give further information. “While Yixing tries to get the autopsy report.”

“What about his legit businesses?” Minseok asked. Baekhyun had two clubs, one in a very nice part of the city, in which he was most likely dealing all types of drugs in. Still, it was a legitimate business, and being a club made it oh so easy to launder money. If one of them managed to snag it, that would be a dream.

“We’re not even trying for those.” Yifan finally responded. He already knew who’d get them anyway, and that was a cat fight he didn’t want to get in between of.

“So are we still laying low?” Luhan finally asked. He was eager to get back in business, too. As it was, it appeared more profitable to have bets and games arranged. All of this ‘laying low’ bullshit was really boring.

“He just told us to shoot anyone that goes against us in the head, hyung,” Chanyeol said with a large grin. “Can’t wait to get back to work; it’s been terribly boring to not do anything all day.”

“You have been dealing still, Chanyeol. You hardly took a break,” Minseok said with a smile, in a much better mood. The idea that he’d never have to hear Baekhyun’s annoying voice ever again was almost making up for the fact that he didn’t have Jongdae wake up in his arms that morning. Almost.

 “At least something good came from this whole mess,” Luhan beamed, “so the Scorpions are officially back in business!”

Yixing chuckled, shaking his head. “I always thought that was such a silly name.” Chanyeol laughed so hard his cigarette fell out of his mouth again. Yixing didn’t bother to pick it up again.

Yifan frowned. “I thought it was cool at the time, okay?” He still thought the name was cool, actually. Junmyeon liked it too. Or at least he said he did. Yifan suspected his husband lied so he won’t get upset.

Chanyeol got up, before an idea popped in his head. “By the way, what do we do about the press? They’ll eat up the story of a business man dying out of nowhere.”

Luhan shook his head and got up as well. “There’s nothing we can do. We leave them be and concentrate on the matters at hand.” Yifan nodded in approval.

Minsoek looked up at Chanyeol, and then at Yifan. “By the way, you two should keep an eye on Kyungsoo and Jun. Baekhyun might’ve had his mongrels watching them as well.”

Chanyeol frowned, and quickly replied “I doubt it. Kyungsoo would have noticed if someone was following him,”

Minseok only shrugged. “I’m just warning you, it’s all.”

“And I appreciate it, but you got nothing to worry about, hyung.”

“By the way, when are you marrying him?” Luhan asked as he put on his coat. “You two have been together for longer than I’ve known you. You gonna put a ring on it anytime soon?”

The redhead looked uncomfortable with the sudden subject change. “Why would I? Me and Kyungsoo get along just fine. We don’t need to get married.”

Luhan looked at him as if he was talking to an idiot. “Uh, with the way things are progressing now, you never know when the marriage will come in handy, smartass.”

Chanyeol though, remained confused. “What do you mean?”

“He means you get spousal privilege if you marry him,” Yifan muttered, after a long period of keeping quiet. The news that someone might be watching Junmyeon were only worsening his already bad mood. The ‘marriage talk’ with Chanyeol wasn’t helping either.

“Is that why Minseok hyung got married so fast?” Chanyeol asked, hoping to get the attention away from him. Minseok only frowned.

“I do love Jongdae very much, thank you-”

“Yeah, that’s why he got married. Cause he’s not dumb like some other people I know.” Luhan retorted.

Luhan loved business, but he hated complications. Not having a guarantee for someone’s silence was definitely a complication. He and Yifan had tried to get Chanyeol to marry his boyfriend since they got seriously into the criminal world. Perhaps now with Minseok’s help, he’d actually listen.

However, the redhead didn’t seem to be changing his mind anytime soon. “I don’t know why you guys are always on about that. Kyungsoo would never tell on any of us-“

“You never know, Chanyeol-“ Luhan groaned, throwing his hands in the air. He then glared at Yixing who was laughing softly at his dramatic outburst.

“Of course I know, hyung. Why would I be with someone I don’t trust?” Chanyeol retorted, zipping up his jacket. “If anyone should get married, it’s you. Aren’t you like 30 already? You’re not getting any younger, you know,“ he said as he walked out of the room, not before waving at the others.

An array of emotions passed by Luhan’s face, from anger, to annoyance, frustration, settling in the end on being offended by Chanyeol’s comment. He was _not_ old, alright? He walked out of the room with a promise to Kris to call him later.

Yixing got up as well. “Call me when you can, Minseok. We’ll talk of when you should come and see the body.” And with a kind smile, he took his leave.

The two remaining people in the room stared at each other silently for a while.

“I didn’t kill Baekhyun,” Minseok said in the end.

Yifan stared right into his eyes as he responded “I know you didn’t.”

Minseok shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you believed me,”

The leader waved him off and he put out his cigarette. “As you said, you had no reason to lie. What I’m worried about is if we’ll be more under the radar now.”

“I don’t think so. If anything, I think whatever horde Baekhyun mixed with will bring trouble. Same with his whores; they won’t let Luhan take over the brothel easily. They were stupidly loyal to Byun.”

Yifan shook his head. “I trust he’ll be able to handle it.”

Minseok wanted to disagree, but restrained himself. He didn’t necessarily feel like arguing with Yifan over a matter he didn’t care much for. “What do you want to do about the priest?” he asked instead.

“I trust you have some ideas?”

The older of the two smiled. He thought he’d gotten his point across to priest Johyun about not crossing them. Perhaps the old man really didn’t care about his reputation. “You could say that.”

“You’ll have to wait a while, though,” Yifan said, quickly killing off Minseok’s excitement. “At least until the police is done questioning him. I guess he already gave his statement, but we won’t know until I get a hold of that police report.”

Minseok drummed his fingers on the table again. There were too many things they needed to do, and all because Baekhyun couldn’t stay alive.

Yifan stood up, and looked at his watch. “Shall we go?”

“Actually,” Minseok checked his own watch. 8:58 a.m. “Can we go later? I want to drive Jongdae to school.”

Kris raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure, whatever. Call me when you wanna go, then.” The older only nodded in approval. “By the way,” Yifan began, “was there anything else Baekhyun told you?”

Minseok thought for a moment. Baekhyun was always vague, and liked to exaggerate a lot of things. He liked to hear himself talk too, so whatever came out of his mouth could hardly be trusted entirely. Still, there was something that had been irking Minseok since the night before.

“He said he’s not the only fly on the wall. And told me to control my temper.”

Yifan didn’t say anything as he put on his coat. He then added, “Whatever he meant, let’s be careful. Watch over Jongdae,”

Minseok snorted as he was reminded of his distant relationship with his husband. “If only it was that simple. If I had it my way, he’d stay at home all day.”

Kris smiled, probably for the first time that morning. “Don’t I know it. I suggest you don’t tell him that, though. Chances are he won’t take it well.”

“I guess you speak from experience.”

Yifan chuckled, and left without looking at him again. “Call me when you wanna go take the casino. Also, close up here, please.”

Minseok sighed as he looked at the now empty, dark room. He distantly wondered why they didn’t turn on the lights during meetings. It just made the whole thing that much more dramatic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading! One reason why it took me so much to write this one is because I wanted to include a xiuchen scene at the end, and I just couldn't write it how I wanted it. In the end I decided not to include it, since I felt like the story will have too much xiuchen in it, and less of the other pairings (the story was originally supposed to be only xiuchen but I changed my mind before fully writing it). Also, it didn't really add anything to the plot anyway.
> 
> In the next chapter we'll see Jongin and Kyungsoo, and with them we have (almost) all important characters introduced! Yay!
> 
> Also, red haired Chanyeol was the best Chanyeol.


	4. Chapter 4

Jongin sighed as he looked towards the big warehouse at the edge of the city. Listening to the radio proved to be of little entertainment as he waited in the car. It was too cold to wait outside, and Chanyeol’s comment to _‘be careful, if someone comes to talk to you, just act like you don’t know what they’re talking about, if they ask about me just laugh and say who? Ha ha, you’ll be fine!’_ really spooked him.

It was safer in the car, therefore.

It was the first time he’d ever accompanied Chanyeol to one of those meetings, and he was weirdly nervous, as if _he_ was the one meeting the other crime bosses. He had yet to even see any of them face to face. He also chose to completely ignore the other 4 cars parked around the warehouse.

The stories of The Scorpions were many on the streets, and Jongin wondered how many of them were true. He already disregarded a few of them, aka the rumors about Chanyeol being a bloodthirsty, cruel boss that took no shit and was quick to pull the trigger one anyone that bothered him. While Chanyeol really took no shit, he was far from cruel and bloodthirsty, at least in Jongin’s eyes. He’d been nothing but nice to him, even helped him a lot and took him under his wing to keep him away from trouble.

Before he knew, he’d been made Chanyeol’s personal driver and designated listener to his rants and problems, and way too descriptive stories of his love life. Not that Jongin wasn’t incredibly grateful to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, but he could seriously do without listening to Chanyeol going on and on about how he fell in love and dreamed of doing ‘naughty things’ with the object of his affections. It was sweet, sure, but perhaps a little too much information.

Seeing someone come out of the warehouse broke Jongin out of his thoughts, and his heart missed several beats before he saw the mop of red hair on the walking person. He let out a relieved breath when he realized it was Chanyeol. His heart sped up again as someone else came out of the warehouse, running behind Chanyeol. The second person was much shorter than his boss, he noted.

He hurried to get out of the car, but stopped when Chanyeol wildly gestured for him to get back inside. Were they in trouble? Was that short man behind Chanyeol dangerous? The tall redhead didn’t seem to mind him much, and didn’t speed up his walking to the car.

To his surprise, Chanyeol didn’t get in the front seat alongside him. He didn’t say anything, but he started giggling like a child, grinning from ear to ear. Jongin watched as the shorter man approached the car, and got in the front seat next to him. He turned to glare at Chanyeol.

 “You could have waited for me!”

His boss full on laughed, the grin never leaving his face. “Not my fault your short legs can’t catch up with me, hyung.”

“You’re such I brat, I can’t believe you,” the short man turned forward, and a very awkward silence settled over the car.

The man then glared at Jongin impatiently. Jongin froze in his seat. “Are you gonna drive or not?!”

His hands are on the wheel in a second. He then remembered he had to actually start the car before starting to drive. He fumbled with the keys for a good 10 seconds before Chanyeol started to laugh again, and the short man sighed his soul out.

After finally starting the car and calming his nerves, Jongin’s hands were back on the wheel. Where were they going again?

“Umm…”

“You didn’t even fucking tell him where we’re going?” the short man asked, and Chanyeol just shrugged, busy on his phone. With a frown, he told Jongin the address he was expected to take them to.

Surprisingly, the drive was not as quiet as he expected. Music rang loudly from the radio, and the two men had plenty of subjects to debate while in the car.

“I can’t believe Minseok hyung got married. He’s like, the last person I thought would get married.” Chanyeol said, hunched over Jongin’s seat to face the other. Jongin had to cock his head to the side so he could still drive, and the position was anything but comfortable. Still, he kept his mouth shut as he listened on. He was a sucker for gossip.

“I can’t believe Minseok became a sugar daddy,” the other said, looking out the window and sighing every so often.

Chanyeol laughed right into Jongin’s ear, jolting him. “Is his husband that young?”

The short man huffed. “He said Baekhyun’s men were watching his husband while he was _in class,_ so I guess he’s in college or something.” He fiddled with his seatbelt, before saying again. “I mean, high school students aren’t that young, right?”

“Beats me. Though Minseok hyung does seem like the sugar daddy type, doesn’t he?”

The two of them were quiet for a while. Jongin tried to steal sneak glances at the man next to him from time to time, and he wanted to kick himself in the head for not realizing sooner who the man was.

Luhan

He knew that name, obviously. No one that worked for Chanyeol, or had any knowledge of how the streets were run didn’t know who Luhan was. The man was infamous, for everything from his looks, to his practices, and personality. There were three things that should go through your head when you heard the name Luhan: pretty face, short stature, took no shit.

And now Jongin was sitting next to him. Life was crazy like that, wasn’t it?

Sometimes he himself couldn’t believe he was involved in the criminal underworld. After all, he didn’t really do much other than drive a crime boss around city and keep him company. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Like, if, hypothetically of course, Chanyeol somehow got caught, would Jongin be charged with something? Would he go to jail, cause he sure as hell wouldn’t do well in there alone.

Sometimes it was easy to forget about stuff like that when all you did was drive people around and listen to them talk about who knows what. He was like a taxi driver, but with a bigger pay, and worse consequences. By that logic, he guessed all criminals were just like businessmen, but with more immoral and dangerous businesses.

“Since when do you have a driver, Chanyeol?” Luhan asked, and Jongin’s blood ran cold. He definitely _did not_ want to be noticed in that way. He was perfectly fine with being ‘just the driver’. Chanyeol was nice enough to not get him too involved with anything illegal, but he doubted the other Scorpions would be as well.

“Ah, since a month ago or so?” Chanyeol answered, scratching his head as to remember. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen him before, and I knew you liked to drive yourself around.” Luhan continued to regard Jongin with skepticism, and Jongin was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the road.

“Ah, well, having a driver makes things easier, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

“Jongin’s a good kid, hyung. Stop scaring him, he’s gonna crash the car before we get there.”

Luhan surprisingly listened, and turned his handsome face away from him. Jongin breathed a not so subtle sigh of relief, and jumped in his seat when Chanyeol patted his shoulder and gave him a toothy grin. Right, Chanyeol was here, so he would be fine. If anything went wrong, he could just quit, after all.

He hoped so, at least.

“Is he coming with us?” Luhan asked again, and Jongin would have been offended to be talked about as if he wasn’t present, but his rapidly beating heart and the terror that crawled up his spine kept him good and quiet.

“Hyung, he’s my driver. Of course he isn’t coming.”

“He would do well, though,” Luhan turned again to him. “The girls might be more inclined not to protest if we have a handsome young guy with us.”

_What?! What girls?! Protest to what?!_

“Isn’t that why I’m coming though?” Chanyeol said, and laughed at his own joke as soon as Luhan rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry though, I texted some guys for help already. We don’t need Jongin there.”

Chanyeol once again patted him on the shoulder, and Jongin tried to relax his tensed muscles. He was gripping the wheel so hard, he was sure there would be marks on his palms.

When they reached the street corner Luhan told him about, the older started to give him more directions.

“Make a right here, and then a left, two rights, and then-“

“Umm…” Jongin began uncertain, “make a right where?” There was only one small opening, where the car could barely fit.

Luhan glared at him before saying “Kid, you’re the driver, make a right _here-“_

“Hyung, stop screaming, you’re scaring him,” Chanyeol whined form the backseat, his deep voice combined with his squealing making Jongin feel even more uncomfortable. “He doesn’t know this street. Make a right here, Jongin.”

He listened to Chanyeol and turned the car through the small alley. The vehicle barely fit, but Chanyeol urged him on, telling him he was on the right track. The redhead kept giving him directions, and soon enough, they were in a dark back alley. There were about 5 other cars that Jongin had no clue how they got there.

“See hyung, you gotta be nice with kids! You should learn that for when you’re gonna be a father!”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck-“

“Anyway, let’s go, there’s business to do here.”

Chanyeol got out of the car first, and then Luhan. Jongin remained seated, not knowing what to do.

His boss knocked on the window and motioned for him to roll it down. Chanyeol was smiling at him like usual, large grin splattered on his face. It was a very conflicting image to the large men getting out of the cars outside and getting inside the building through a small door.

“You stay here, alright?”

“Yes, hyung.” He really wasn’t planning on taking any walks now, especially after he saw what he thought was a _fucking shotgun, what the fuck-_

“I mean it, Jongin. You stay in the car. Promise?”

Chanyeol looked very serious, an image he didn’t show often. Jongin would have argued that he wasn’t a child, and didn’t need to be babied, but now was probably not the time for any of that.

“Yes hyung, I promise.” He muttered instead, and tried not to look towards the building again, keeping his eyes instead on the taller man’s face.

Chanyeol smiled at him again, big toothy grin that made him feel slightly more at ease. “Good boy. Don’t get out of the car no matter what, alright? Whatever you hear, you stay here. I’ll be back shortly, and we’ll go home.”

He willed himself to smile back, and didn’t even protest when Chanyeol ruffled his hair. He looked on as the older walked towards the building as well, seemingly without a care in the world. Jongin really wondered what went on in his head at that moment.

He had some idea of what was going to happen (why else get people with _fucking shotguns?!_ ), and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. He’s never been to one of those things with Chanyeol (was this a raid? That’s what they called it in games, right?) and didn’t know what to expect. He doubted things would go too wrong. After all, he was safe in the car.

Time passed slowly, very very slowly, and not one sound was to be heard from the inside. He checked the time every so often, only to see the minutes going by in slow motion. He looked towards the building again, and for a split second he almost contemplated going in there to see how things were, but he’d rather not go against the word of the only person that seemed to look out for him.

Also, the high pitched screech he heard definitely made him reconsider.

After that one scream, more and more followed. Women were screaming, yelling angrily, or scared, he couldn’t tell well. After a few screams, a loud bang was heard. _A gun was shot_ , Jongin thought.

It was like something snapped then, and everything went crazy. More screams, women and men screaming, more gunshots, more screaming, and so on. By that time, Jongin had rolled up the window, and turned on the radio on full blast.

His hands were shaking, and he tried not to cry. He was scared, so scared, and he didn’t even know why. Chanyeol was fine, he would be fine. _Everything would be fine._

Jongin wanted to go home right then and there, to be with his mother and his sisters, and away from this mess he’d gotten himself into. A mess he doubted he could easily get out of, if ever.

He didn’t even notice how much time has passed while he was freaking out, until Chanyeol knocked once again on the window and smiled at him softly. Jongin smiled back weakly, wiping the tears away from his face.

 

*

 

Kyungsoo hated teaching. With a burning passion.

He hated saying the same things he already knew over and over again. Hated having to explain the simplest concepts to kids that had no damn interest in what he was talking about and what they were supposed to fucking study anyway. He hated that so few of them actually bothered to be somehow respectful, and that even fewer actually paid attention to him. He hated that he did the job of the Professor, when he was a damned teacher’s assistant that got paid way less for way more work.

Yeah, he was not a fan of teaching. However, there were few things he could do with a degree in music, so here he was. Looking at the faces of the 15 students that bothered to come to class that day. Fantastic.

Thankfully for him, the lecture (if it could even be called that) would be over in about 10 minutes. It was Kyungsoo’s last lecture for that day, so he decided to let the uninterested students early.

“We’re done for today.” He chose to ignore the relieved sigh that echoed through the auditorium. “If anyone is interested in auditioning for the musical that’s being held in a month, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

The musical was a subject that Kyungsoo brought up after every lesson. It was one of the very few things he actually cared about in the damned school. He already had a female lead, a very talented girl called Wendy, who was also one of the few students Kyungsoo gave a shit about. Now if only he could convince her friend to join the cast as well, he would be more than pleased.

“Jongdae, wait a second,” he called his student as soon as the others started to leave. Jongdae was by far his best student, talented and hardworking. Kyungsoo tried to make him more comfortable with singing in front of others, but he’d had little success so far.

“Yes, Mr. Do?” The boy looked as uncomfortable as he always did. He was constantly looking around him and over his shoulder, as if to check if someone was watching him.

Kyungsoo sighed. The brilliant ones were always strange.

“Have you given a thought to being the lead for the musical?” he got straight to the point, and as soon as he saw the other’s face, he already knew the answer.

“I don’t know sir, I don’t think I would be any good-“

“You’d be the best, what are you talking about?” he interrupted the other before he went on.

Jongdae, however, argued back with him. “Well, I don’t think I’d be that good-“

“And I disagree, so why don’t you want to?”

The student looked worried there for a moment, fiddling with his phone. Kyungsoo was fighting a losing battle, he realized. There was no changing the other’s mind, at least not now.

Kyungsoo sighed again. “Well, if you change your mind somehow, let me know, alright?”

The other smiled at him, a forced smile that looked very out of place on the boy’s face. Jongdae was a strange case for sure. Last year, as well as the beginning of this year, he looked dead on his feet, exhausted beyond belief. After two months however, he no longer looked tired, and smiled so bright he was making Kyungsoo’s eyesight worse. Nowadays, he looked almost as bad as before, perhaps less tired, but twice as sad. As much as Kyungsoo wanted to ask him what the problem was, he never did. It wasn’t his business to get involved in his students’ private lives.

His best student walked away, and Kyungsoo cursed his luck. Since the representative of the Theatre Department backed away from the musical, it all rested on the Music Department, and more specifically on Kyungsoo’s shoulders to carry the annual musical. Just thinking about the musical brought a smile on his face, as well as memories from when he himself was in college and used to practice for hours on his lines and his songs. Ah, yes, the good times.

For the sake of nostalgia, as well as his own sanity, Kyungsoo was determined to make this musical the best the university has ever seen. That was, if he could hopefully get Jongdae to agree to be the main lead.

Still, Kyungsoo wasn’t anything if not insistent, so he wouldn’t give up easily. He gathered his things and left the auditorium after it cleared out. He couldn’t wait to get home and start dinner. At times like this, when he was more excited about cooking than teaching annoying 20 something year olds, he almost wished he’d listened to his mother and became a chef. Life would have been easier then.

The cold November air hit him as soon as he walked out of the school. He didn’t like to drive, preferring instead to walk home every day, despite Chanyeol’s constant whining. Speaking of Chanyeol, out of the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo could see the ever present figure that followed him home every day after work.

He was a man under Chanyeol’s pay, or Yifan’s pay, or whoever the fuck’s pay. He didn’t exactly know, but the man has been following him home for more than a year now, every morning and every day after school. Therefore, Kyungsoo concluded that the man was entrusted to see him off to school safely, and then to home every day.

Who he worked for mattered little to Kyungsoo. Some part of him was sure Chanyeol was the one that had him followed, but that couldn’t be possible. He was sure he’d made it clear to his boyfriend that he didn’t want his every move watched. Still, maybe Chanyeol was worried, more so that he let on, and didn’t want to tell Kyungsoo out of fear of angering him. That was a very sweet thought, wasn’t it.

The other part of Kyungsoo was certain that Yifan, or some other of Chanyeol’s friends had him followed, since Chanyeol himself didn’t want to. He didn’t know, and it was definitely not a subject he would ever bring up to his boyfriend, for several reasons.

If, in fact, Chanyeol _did_ have him followed, sweet thoughts and all, Kyungsoo was sure his anger would overtake his sympathy. If Chanyeol _didn’t_ have any involvement, he’d surely get angry at his associates, and fighting with any of them could not be any good. Therefore, Kyungsoo kept silent. He wasn’t the best at conversations anyway.

What surprised him, however, was that his _second_ follower wasn’t present today. For about a month, some other dude had been following him as well, in addition to his usual stalker. Kyungsoo supposed this guy was just reinforcement for the first one, so he didn’t pay much attention to his sudden disappearance.

Chanyeol didn’t keep any secrets about his work from him. He regularly ranted to Kyungsoo about how some of his men were dumb and incompetent, how other annoyed him, and how bad he felt about a select few. He told Kyungsoo how he disagreed with Yifan on whatever subject, how he thought Luhan or Minseok to be reckless, and how Yixing was off his rocker. Most of Chanyeol’s people knew him too, but avoided talking to him beyond pleasantries. Chanyeol joked that they were more afraid of Kyungsoo than him, thanks to his unexpressive face and hard stare.

He wasn’t even surprised when Chanyeol came home one night with a 19 year old by his side, drenched by the rain and barely holding back his tears. Chanyeol had urged the boy in the bathroom to take a shower while Kyungsoo started to prepare him a warm meal. By the time he was done, the boy was clean and dressed in Chanyeol’s clothes, while his boyfriend was trying to make him laugh. Later that night, while Jongin was sound asleep on their couch, Kyungsoo suggested to Chanyeol that he should make the boy his driver or something, to keep him away from trouble. The other had agreed.

Chanyeol had such a stupidly big heart, Kyungsoo could barely tell him off half the time. The list of things he would do for Chanyeol was uncomfortably long. Every time he got fed up with stupid students and considered calling that casting agent that approached him 3 years ago and asked if he’d be interested in some random play, he quickly changed his mind. Acting and singing would bring people and media’s attention to him, and attention to him would be attention to Chanyeol, and he couldn’t have that.

He’d rather waste his life doing something he hated than put Chanyeol in danger’s way.

When he arrived home, shivering from the cold, he was glad to see Jongin munching on some leftovers from their meal from last night, while Chanyeol was being surprisingly quiet next to him. His expression changed quickly when he saw Kyungsoo entering the apartment.

“Soo, welcome home!”

“Hello, Kyungsoo hyung,” Jongin greeted him quietly, forcing out a smile. What was it with this day and people forcing themselves to smile at him?

“Hello,” he greeted back, taking off his coat and shoes. Chanyeol was grinning brightly at him, making the cold bleed away from his bones, leaving only warmth in its way.

“How was your day?” his boyfriend asked, his voice loud in the otherwise quiet apartment.

“I’ve had better. Yours?”

He didn’t miss the way Jongin froze in his seat with the chopsticks in his mouth at his question.

“It was good,” Chanyeol was never good at lying to him, and now it was no different. Something must have gone down to get them so uptight.

“Well anyway, I’m thinking of cooking something.” Chanyeol’s face lit up at the mention of his cooking. “Jongin, what would you like?” And just like quickly, his face fell.

“Umm, hyung, I need to go.”

Kyungsoo frowned. Why were kids never listening to him? “You can at least stay to eat-“

“But I already ate, hyung, and it was delicious as always.” The younger smiled brightly at him, and it didn’t feel as forced as a few seconds ago.

Kyungso sighed. Kids these days. He would not have turned down free food when he was their age. “Fine. But you’ll come tomorrow to eat, alright?”

“Uh, we’re busy tomorrow, actually,” Chanyeol muttered, scratching the back of his head. Kyungsoo looked at his red hair, and realized his roots were starting to grow out. He’d have to dye them again soon.

“Well, sometimes soon, then.”

Jongin smiled at him again. “Of course, hyung.”

Kyungsoo let the two of them to talk about whatever, while he went to gather the ingredients. Cooking was always relaxing to him, and after a whole day of stressing himself and almost losing his shit about 100 times, he needed to relax.

He heard the front door close, signaling that Jongin had left. Chanyeol’s heavy footsteps echoed in the empty house. Before he knew it, Kyungsoo felt a pair of arms close around him, and Chanyeol’s head rested on his shoulder. The other had to slouch down to reach him. It was weirdly endearing.

“Was your day that bad?” he asked the other while he continued to wash the vegetables. Chanyeol sighed loudly, his breath reeking of cigarette smoke.

“It was just stressful. A lot happened.”

Kyungsoo hummed. “Like what?”

Chanyeol was quiet for a good two minutes before he opened his mouth. “Baekhyun’s dead, we don’t know who killed him or why, but he was shot last night after Minseok hyung met with him to tell him to-“ he stopped abruptly, taking a breath of air and continuing, “by the way MInseok hyung got married and is now a sugar daddy and me and Luhan hyung had to-“

“Wait, wait, slow down. Baekhyun’s dead?” Kyungsoo whirled around in Chanyeol’s embrace to face him, almost knocking their heads together. Thankfully, that was avoided.

“Yeah, he’s dead. Didn’t they say anything on the news yet?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t see anything,” Kyungsoo didn’t know much about Baekhyun. He’s only met him twice, knew he was some sort of associate of theirs, and very annoying. Kyungsoo didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, and knew Chanyeol felt the same. Or at least he thought so.

“Well, he’s dead. And we don’t know who killed him, and _that’s_ a problem. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“And I’m also the only dumbass that’s even remotely worried about the media getting involved. They’d eat the death on a businessman in a second, but no one else seems to think so! What if someone finds something?!”

“Calm down,” Kyungsoo patted him on his red hair, brushing his fingers through the strands. He definitely needed some retouching. “Let Yifan hyung deal with that.”

Chanyeol huffed. “Not like I can do much. He told us to take over whatever businesses Baekhyun had, so no one else would get their hands on them and find out we’re dirty.”

Kyungsoo arched a brow at that. “We’ll, I think he’s right. Who took what?”

Chanyeol hugged him tighter, and leaned into his petting. “Minseok hyung took the casinos, and Luhan hyung took the brothel,” he sighed again, and looked right into Kyungsoo’s eyes. “I went with Luhan hyung to help him.”

Kyungsoo understood right away. “And Jongin went with you.”

He nodded and straightened himself so he was towering over Kyungsoo. He always felt small when the other was looking down at him like that. “He didn’t see anything _too_ bad, but I’m sure he’s spooked a bit.”

“At least he’s not hurt,” he tried to reason with the other. He didn’t really know what else to say.

Chanyeol smiled sadly at him. Kyungsoo turned back to start cutting the vegetables, and Chanyeol wrapped himself around him again. “By the way, Minseok hyung got married.”

“Good for him,” he answered, fighting with a potato that was quite hard to peel. “To whom?”

“Fuck if I know. Some college student apparently?”

Kyungsoo hummed again, smiling in triumph as he managed to peel the annoying vegetable in his hand. As he picked up a second one, Chanyeol rested his head once again on his shoulder, making it hard for Kyungsoo to do his work.

“Chanyeol, I can’t cook with you glued to me.”

“But Soo,” the older whined, and Kyungsoo refrained himself from sighing. His mother always said you lose two years of your life each time you sigh, and Kyungsoo was sure his lifespan had already been cut short, thanks to the worse job in the world, as well as the many curses his students put on him. “I missed you, and I wanna be close to you!”

“I’m literally not going anywhere for the rest of the day. You can be close to me when I don’t have a knife in my hand, can you?”

The other only hugged him closer, and Kyungsoo did sigh then. What was two years to the decades he was sure he’d lost already?

“Chanyeol, really-“

“I’ll let you be if you give me a kiss!” the other exclaimed in his ear. Kyungsoo turned his head around and kiss at whatever random spot he reached on Chanyeol’s face, which turned to be his right eye. The older cringed and untangled himself from Kyungsoo’s smaller frame.

“Soo!” he looked at him offended, and Kyungsoo couldn’t help the chuckle he let out.

“That should teach you. Now let me cook.”

His relief was short lived however, cause as soon as he finished cutting the vegetables, the other pulled him back into a hug, now resting his chin atop of Kyungsoo’s head.

“Chanyeol, what did I just say-“

“You said I can be close when you don’t have the knife!” he reasoned with a kiss to Kyungsoo’s head.

He sighed. God, did he love the idiot. As Chanyeol hugged him tighter, Kyungsoo thought it was definitely worth putting up with annoying students if it meant the other would be by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! I wanted to get it out in between Kyungsoo's and Jongin's birthdays, but I obviously missed the mark. So happy late birthday to the boys!!
> 
> This chapter wasn't supposed to be this long, but chansoo is so fun to write. Next chapter, we'll spend some time with Yixing, and some new charaters will appear. Please look forward to it!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is chapter 5! This is by far the longest chapter I've written for this story, so I hope you'll enjoy it! Hopefully, all of them are going to be this long from now on, but don't hold me to that.
> 
> A few things about this chapter first. You guys see that 'appearances from other idols' tag? Well, that one is really gonna come into play from now on. In this chapter especially there's a pov character that is from another group (B.A.P. in this case), and there will be others in the future. However, the story is still about EXO and will revolve around them.

Yongguk tried to keep his eyes opened as he stared at the detective seated at the desk across from his. He cursed his luck as he listened to him typing loudly on his laptop. It wasn’t necessarily _that_ loud, but Yongguk’s headache was making it sound impossibly obnoxious.

He sighed and cursed his luck one more time. Of course he would be put on leave exactly when Byun Baekhyun had been found dead in a church in the shady part of the city. Of course.

There was a multitude of reasons for Yongguk to not be sent on the field anymore. From his excessive drinking habits, to the loss of his partner, and the nasty attitude he had developed against everyone that didn’t believe him and his stories.

He had been put on leave, but he refused to stay at home. Despite his superior’s arguing and insisting, he still came into work every day. Even if now ‘work’ consisted of him brooding at his desk and not actually doing anything of importance anymore.

“I could help you two, you know?” he said to Jaehyo, hoping the older detective would let him in on the details of the case. “Me and Himchan were looking into Byun; maybe I have something that can help you guys.”

Jaehyo didn’t even spare him a glance and continued to write the report. “Thanks, but no thanks. Minhyuk and I can handle it.”

Yongguk groaned, fully aware that he was being silly. It appeared the alcohol from his body had yet to clear out. He drank so much last night he suspected he was still drunk now. “C’mon, man! I can help you guys! Just tell me what happened and-“

“Aren’t you supposed to be on leave or something?” Minhyuk’s voice and the glare from Jaehyo stopped the words right in his throat. The detective placed one of the two coffee cups next to his partner’s laptop, and took a sip of the one he was still holding. He looked at Yongguk over the rim of the paper cup with a questioning look in his eyes, seemingly unfazed by the other officer’s behavior.

“You both know I can’t just stay at home.” He retorted, feeling like a child between the two detectives and their scolding gazes.

“That’s too bad, then. You’re free to waste your time here, but don’t bother us,” Minhyuk replied smoothly and coldly, taking a seat next to his partner to look at the report being written.

“I think you need to go home and relax a bit,” Jaehyo said, taking a break from said report to drink his coffee. “You being here isn’t going to do much help.”

“I would help you if only you guys would let me!” he exclaimed, his headache getting ten times worse. The two of them still didn’t seem put off by his behavior. Everyone was more or less used to Yongguk’s outbursts by now, and nobody had the heart to scold him for it.

Minhyuk sighed and looked at Yongguk with pity in his eyes. “And how would you help us? There’s nothing on this case that needs your assistance.”

“But Byun Baekhyun is-“ he began before being cut off by the older again.

“Yes, yes, he’s part of that conspiracy you think exists-“

“It does exist!” his reply was, however, ignored, as Minhyuk continued to talk and Jaehyo started again on the report.

“It might exist, but you have no proof. This is just a normal murder case of a business man; nothing more.”

Yongguk was left speechless as the detective shut him up. He wanted to scream at the other, tell him that he actually _had_ proof, wanted to call him out for treason and conspiracy because he didn’t believe him, wanted to name Himchan as the clearest form of proof he could have, but-

But he didn’t. Because there was no use for that. No one would believe him anyways. They called him crazy, they said mourning had made him mad, and that alcohol didn’t help either.

He slumped down in his chair, and continued to listen to Jaehyo type his police report. He looked at the desk to his right, where Himchan’s framed picture sat, a black ribbon messily glued onto it. It’s been a month, but he still felt a pang of sadness in his heart whenever he saw his partner’s _(ex-partner’s)_ face.

He’s mostly gotten used to the thought that the other was dead, but he didn’t necessarily feel at peace. Not when so many things didn’t make sense. Byun Baekhyun’s death only cemented his growing suspicions, and reminded him of the pain and disappointment he felt a month ago.

Before Himchan had passed away (aka been killed in cold blood), they have been working on a case together. Well, not exactly a case, since no one actually authorized it. The chief inspector didn’t even want to hear their ‘delusions’, and everyone in the office called them crazy whenever they brought it up. After a while, he and Himchan just gave up on finding help from anyone else, and settled on investigating it themselves.

To put it simply, he and Himchan were certain that organized crime was well alive and booming in Seoul. Not only that, but they had a huge list of suspects, and a few certain targets they were desperately trying to catch. And those targets were the members of the infamous Scorpions.

No one talked about The Scorpions on the streets, unless in was in whispers or at gunpoint. The legends that followed that name were so many Yongguk couldn’t even remember all of them half the time. It was said that whoever talked about The Scorpions ended up disappearing the next day, with no trail left in their way. Not only were you disappearing off the face of the earth, but your family would be mysteriously gone as well, and no one asked any questions.

The biggest mystery surrounding the apparently all omnipresent Scorpions was perhaps the one that needed solving first, and that was: who even _were_ The Scorpions?

Depending on who you asked, and how mean you were, you got different answers. Some said The Scorpions were a conglomerate of the most powerful criminals in the city, and that they all used the name as some sort of agreement to not draw attention to them separately. Others said that every major crime boss was part of The Scorpions, like some sort of modern time 1930’s Commission. Many believed that the whole image of The Scorpions was fabricated by only one mob boss that wanted to make others believe he had more associates and was part of a big organization that would come knocking in case something happened to him.

Yes, rumors of The Scorpions were many on the streets, and even with that, no one seemed to believe him and Himchan when they talked about it. That resulted in a horrible case of paranoia for them, especially for Yongguk after his partner had been killed. There were times when he believed everyone was against him, and that sooner or later he’d follow his partner to the grave.

During their investigation, they had managed to gather a file of the most likely candidates to be criminals in hiding, and therefore possible members of The Scorpions. The file used to be in Himchan’s desk but Yongguk now kept it in the last drawer of his own desk, under two locks. Just in case.

Byun Baekhyun just so happened to be on that list. The dude’s past was almost inexistent in public documents. His family mysteriously gone, he got rich over night, with two clubs in his name that brought more money in one evening than Yongguk made in a year. His whole story screamed suspicious, and Yongguk was sure there was something else going on. Still, no matter how much they tried, no judge would be stupid enough to give them a warrant, and even if by some miracle they managed to get one, Byun appeared clean.

His death couldn’t have been accidental, that much Yongguk was sure of. Even if the other detectives didn’t think so, he _knew_ something else had to be going on.

Minhyuk and Jaehyo both got up and started gathering their things. While Minhyuk put on his coat, Jaehyo carefully stuck his laptop in his backpack with a glare to Yongguk as warning. Whatever, he only looked through it _once_.

“You two are leaving?”

“Yes,” Minhyuk answered, waiting for his partner to get dressed as well.

“You guys have a lead?” he hoped they’d tell him, but unfortunately his puppy eyes didn’t seem to work on them.

“It’s none of your business.” Jaehyo answered shortly, carrying his backpack on one shoulder. “If you snoop through my papers again, I’ll-“

“Okay, okay, I won’t! I wasn’t going to, anyways.” Yongguk defended himself.

Jaehyo only frowned, and the two detectives left without another word.

Yongguk scanned the rest of the office quickly. No one else was paying him any attention, as usual. Even if they were, he suspected they watched him with some grotesque interest, some sort of ‘ _let’s see what the mad man is doing today, haha.’_ Man, he really missed Himchan.

He pulled out one of the two keys from his pocket, and unlocked the last drawer of his desk. After doing one more check up of the office and glaring at the new officer that looked at him questioningly, he pulled out the second key, which was hidden in his wallet. He wasn’t the best at hiding stuff, but he tried, alright? He unlocked the small box that hid all of his and Himchan’s investigation, and picked up the suspects list.

He carefully set it on his desk, the feeling that someone was watching him already creeping up his spine. He willed his hands to stop shaking, and grabbed a can of beer from his second drawer. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to drink at work, but he was technically on leave anyway, so it was whatever.

He looked through the suspects list, crossing Byun Baekhyun’s name with a red pen. Reading over the other names, he felt the adrenaline run through his veins, accompanied by the alcohol he was now drinking, and the fear he couldn’t get rid of.

He did one more scanning of the office before he looked down at the list of names, written in Himchan’s ugly handwriting.

_JESSICA JUNG_

~~_BYUN BAEKHYUN_ ~~

_LU HAN_

_WOO JIHO_

_PARK JUNGSOO_

_KIM MINSEOK_

_STEPHANIE HWANG_

_WU YIFAN_

_ZHOU MI_

_CHOI SIWON_

_KIM HYOYEON_

_LEE SEUNGHYUN_

Most people on the list were rich and influential, and they wouldn’t spare a glance to some poor alcoholic police detective like Yongguk. Still, he was certain some of them had dirty hands, and he was ready to find out who had skeletons in their closet.

Jessica Jung was a business woman, born in Korea, raised in America, and with a too perfect track record to be clean. She was an associate of Byun Baekhyun’s, as he was a shares holder in one of her make-up companies. Himchan joked that they put her on the list just because she was hot, and how they’d love to do a _private investigation_ on Miss Jung _._ Even still, something seemed fishy about her, and Yongguk didn’t trust anything if not his instinct.

This Lu Han was also an interesting case. Chinese by origin, he came to Korea to study, and ended up settling here. Owner of a 5 star hotel and several betting houses, as well as other small businesses here and there. He had stock shares in his home country China, and was overall really strange. He and Baekhyun had worked together before on some small businesses, but nothing worth noting.

Woo Jiho was the one Yongguk suspected the most. An ex-underground rapper turned music producer with his own underground clubs and bars all over Seoul. Childhood friend of Lee Minhyuk and Ahn Jaehyo, and Yongguk was really starting to suspect the two detectives were Woo Jiho’s informants. Not only was that spiking up his anxiety to the point he had to drain another can of beer, but it was boosting up his paranoia. Woo Jiho was really suspicious in Yongguk’s eyes, and just like Jessica Jung, even if he had no solid evidence, he was sure the dude was dirty.

Park Jungsoo was one of those grey cases he wasn’t sure should be on the list. The guy was a businessman and a philanthropist, regularly invited to important political events and business meetings. Himchan had suggested putting him on the list, saying that if Jessica was written down, he should be as well. Yongguk kind of dreaded this dude’s involvement. He was too big a fish for them to catch.

Now, Kim Minseok was someone Yongguk was more than certain was crooked. Owner of a restaurant chain in Seoul and share holder to some obscure company in China, as well as associate of previously mentioned Lu Han, Himchan was investigating him the night he’d been shot. The bullet was never found, and the autopsy revealed nothing. The two police officers that were in charge of investigating Himchan’s death ruled it as accidental fire. Both of them disappeared in a week, turning in their resignation letters and leaving the following day with their wives and kids. No one batted an eye, and that was when Yongguk knew there were rats among the police ranks. Kim Minsoek got married a week later to some 20 year old college student.

Stephanie Hwang was an associate of Jessica Jung’s, with her own business empire in America, as well as in Korea. However, her and Jessica seemed to be having some sort of falling out, as they both sold their respective shares they owned in each other’s company. Yongguk didn’t know what to make of it, but since Jessica was on the list, she had remained too.

Wu Yifan was another strange one. Chinese by origin, raised in Canada, he came to Korea to study, where he married now high school literature teacher Kim Junmyeon. He had some sort of trading company between homeland China and Korea, as well as several businesses in China that Yongguk couldn’t find out anything about. College friends with Lu Han and Kim Minseok, an overall shady character that fully deserved his place on the list.

Zhou Mi was another Chinese businessman that frequently moved between Korea to China. Good friend of Park Jungsoo’s, and owner of the company that had Lu Han as a shareholder.

Choi Siwon was the son of a stupidly rich family, as well as the chief doctor of the Central Seoul Hospital. Him and Himchan thought it obvious that there would be someone in the hospital, so who else to put but the chief doctor? Friends with Park Jungsoo, and nothing else worth noting.

Kim Hyoyeon was a choreographer and a club owner that managed to pull even bigger profits than Byun Baekhyun. Hers and Byun’s businesses were in competition, with her in the lead before his death. He considered her a good candidate for his killer, as she had the motive and the means.

Lee Seunghyun was the last person on the list. Korean businessman with a chain of restaurants in Japan, friend of Jessica Jung’s and business partner of hers. Himchan added him a few days before his death, and for that reason alone Yongguk half wished he was one of The Scorpions.

There were so many candidates for the members of the dreaded organization, Yongguk didn’t even know where to start. He also didn’t know if he should start investigating this again. Byun Baekhyun’s death ignited his hunger for justice, sure, and seeing Himchan’s face everyday only ensured that hunger stayed present, but he couldn’t do it alone.

He also couldn’t do it in the same way he’s been doing it. He had to be sneaky, and cunning, and all the things he wasn’t. Not to mention he was still put on leave. Snooping around powerful businessmen would most likely not be something the police chief would overlook easily. He could definitely kiss his badge goodbye then.

He rubbed at his temples, his thoughts suddenly being too loud. He didn’t even want to think of all the people that _weren’t_ on that damned list that were probably involved. Most of them had some relations with China as well, so there came huge political conflicts into play. And Yongguk was only one person. He couldn’t even do anything about Himchan’s death, and here he was dreaming of catching big time criminals.

Even still, he refused to back down. He had nothing left to lose anymore. Himchan was already dead, and he wouldn’t be putting anyone else other than himself in danger this time. He sighed as he emptied his third – or was it forth? - can of beer.

He guessed he could just ask a few questions, nothing too incriminating. He knew where Byun had been shot, so what better place to start?

He looked at Himchan’s picture one more time before smiling sadly. He’d get to the bottom of this mess eventually.

 

*

 

Yixing had always considered humans the most fascinating thing there was. Well, not _thing_ ; creature. _That_ was most appropriate. Yes, humans were the most fascinating creatures.

Their bodies were beautiful, amazing machines that could withstand great damage, and then still managed to regenerate. They were so strong, yet so fragile at the same time. A strong person could snap someone’s neck in a heartbeat, but just as easily they could fall and hit their head, resulting therefore in their end.

Yes, human bodies were a thing of interest to him. That’s why he dedicated his whole life to studying them; seeing what they could do, what they were made of, right to the last cell. He was fascinated with human bodies, with humans in general, really. He found their psyches just as interesting as their packaging.

A physically strong person could have the weakest psyche there was. A small, fragile thing could take trauma like no other. The mind and the body were connected, and they both contradicted and complemented each other. It was the one true wander of life; humans were so concerned with finding out the mysteries of the universe, when the biggest mystery was how they themselves operated and came to be. And to top it all off, all this debate came from the humans themselves.

Still, for all their complexity and intricacy, they were oh so easy to decipher and unravel. The conundrum that was the human kind offered an infinite amount of entertainment for Yixing. And he had his whole life to keep studying and enjoying the individual.

Some people were much easier than other to solve. Dr. Song was one of those people. With a smile and a kind attitude, Yixing could get anything out of her.

“I just don’t understand why you would want to look over it. It’s not like the death was anything too interesting; just your average bullet wound.” She said while smiling at him. Yixing smiled back.

“You’re talking as if you see bullet wounds every day, Dr. Song. It was a headshot, wasn’t it?” he asked, trying to appear as nonchalant as he could.

“Yes, quick and simple to the head. Really Dr. Zhang, nothing to go crazy over. But you’re free to look over the autopsy report; it’s not like it’s a crime.” She answered before turning to look for said report, and Yixing had to hold back his laughter. While sure, looking over the report wasn’t _a crime_ , his intentions were far from innocent.

Dr. Song handed him the report as soon as she found it, and continued to sort her papers while he analyzed it.

_Twenty-six year old male, shot through the head. Found deceased in Sinbi Church by Priest Jung Johyun at 0716 hours._

_Gunshot wound, of head, penetrating, fatal_

  1. _Entry: Back of the head, slightly above the external occipital protuberance_
  2. _Direction: Right to left, back to front_
  3. _Path: Occipital lobe, brain, frontal lobe_
  4. _Exit: None_
  5. _Projectile: Medium caliber copper jacketed bullet from the frontal lobe; recovered 12/11/2017, to evidence safe at 0816_



_Injury date: 12/11/2017_

_Hospital date: 12/11/2017_

_Date of death: 12/11/2017, 0200 hours (estimated time)_

He skimped through the report, trying not to look too interested when Dr. Song looked up from her work to throw a smile his way. Yixing fixed her with his best, charming grin, and went back to the report.

Most things written in he already knew. It was really quite something, to read the description of one of his former lovers’ death.

_CLOTHING:_

_The clothing consists of a long black coat, a dark blue suit. There is one white dress shirt. There is one white undershirt. There is one purple and yellow tie. There is one black underwear. There is one pair of socks and shoes. The clothing is noted to have bloodstains. There is no visibly identifying gunshot residue on the clothing._

_IDENTIFYING FEATURES:_

_The body was identified by the id present on the body. No tattoos are noted on the body. There is a scar on the left pectoral on the chest about 5 inches long. There is a scar on his upper lip. No other scars are noted on the body._

He noted it strange that there was no gun present on Baekhyun. The younger always had a gun on him. Whoever killed him must have removed it afterwards. Or before. However, if he’d been shot from the back, he most probably didn’t see the shooter. Yixing made a mental note to ask Minseok when he left the church. It must have been before 2 a.m.

“No one has come to identify or claim the body?”

Dr. Song shook her head without looking up from her papers. “No. Thankfully, he had his wallet with him.”

“Hmm.”

“You know, now that I think about it, it is strange.” She looked up from the papers, a confused expression on her face. “He had no phone on him, no watch. Nothing. Just his wallet.”

Yixing smiled, still holding the report. “You’re thinking too much on it.”

Dr. Song frowned. “But why was he in the church after midnight anyway? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Perhaps he was just really religious,” he chuckled, thinking of Baekhyun being religious. He wasn’t anything if not a sinner. Some part of Yixing will surely miss him. He was one of the most interesting people he’d ever met.

“This isn’t funny, Yixing. God, how did I not notice.” She got up from the chair and looked at him with fearful eyes. The doctor was quite literally shaking in her boots. “What if this guy was some sort of mafia boss or something? What if-?”

Yixing stopped her before she rambled too much. Her hysteria was getting closer and closer to the truth, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Qian, please calm down. You’re freaking out for no reason.” He went to comfort her. A hug did wonders, and her shaking stopped as soon as she rested her head on his chest. “Even if he was who you say he was, why would anything happen to you? You just conducted the autopsy, nothing more.”

She visibly calmed down. Yixing was glad for that. He’d hate to have to get rid of Song Qian. She was useful, didn’t ask many questions, and could easily be persuaded with sweet words and kisses. For such a smart and capable doctor, she was so very easy to manipulate. Another great mystery of the human nature, he thought.

“Yixing?” she muttered in his chest.

“Yes?”

She looked up to him, smiling happily now. “Are you free tonight? Would you like to come over for dinner?”

He smiled kindly to her. He wouldn’t like to go over for dinner. “What about tomorrow night? I promised one of my friends we’d go out for drinks tonight.”

A bright smile spread over her face. Poor, silly woman. “Alright then! Tomorrow night. I already can’t wait.”

She went in for a kiss, and right before their lips touched, a loud knock on her office door rang into the room.

“Dr. Song, you’re needed in Operation room 15.” Sooyoung, Yixing recognized her voice. “Chief Doctor Choi has asked for you specifically.”

At the mention of the chief doctor, Qian’s eyes widened and she quickly apologized to Yixing before storming out of the office. Park Sooyoung was standing calmly by the door.

“You have impeccable timing,” he said smiling, and went to photocopy the report. Even if there was no significant information in it, he’d need one for his own examination. Not that he didn’t trust Qian’s abilities, but he couldn’t pass on the occasion to slice open his ex-lover.

“I might have been listening outside,” she smiled pleasantly to him. “I’ve talked to Taeyong; he’s agreed to leave me over for mortuary duty tonight.”

Yixing was so glad he had Park Sooyoung as an apprentice. “Good job.” As soon as the copy of the report was done, he handed it to Sooyoung. The simple thought that he’d get to see Baekhyun’s insides was making him giddy with excitement. The night could not come soon enough.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. All he could focus on was the severe hunger he felt at the thought of slicing Beakhyun’s body and spreading him open, feeling his cold flesh and pale skin under the latex of his gloves. Perhaps if he was careful enough, he could stroke him with his bare hands.

He didn’t conduct autopsies often, choosing instead to dig inside those still living, but from time to time he indulged in his wicked cravings of exploring corpses. There were few things as satisfying as the bliss he felt when he touched the cold carcass of a person. It was especially gratifying when he knew said person.

Perhaps the fact that Baekhyun has been his lover at some point in the past was making this whole experience all the more exciting. His lovers were always the most thrilling to dissect.

As the evening came, Yixing’s excitement was ready to tip over. Dr. Song came to kiss him goodbye, and didn’t even bat an eye when he told her he had some more papers to look over, and would leave late. Such a treasure of a woman she was.

He walked over to the mortuary and the autopsy rooms, noting that the hospital was mostly empty. There were some doctors here and there, but most of them were corrupt, and their dirty secrets were well into Yixing’s pockets. No need to worry, then.

He entered the last of the autopsy rooms, his most preferred and the one closer to the mortuary, and was greeted by the sight of a body covered by a white sheet. Sooyoung was standing next to it, waiting patiently for him with the autopsy report in her hands. She handed it to him.

“I got the body out already. I figured you’d want to get started as soon as possible.”

Yixing smiled kindly at her. “Good girl. Did you look over the report?”

“Yes. I cannot wait to get started.”

Park Sooyoung was a very peculiar character, and Yixing was glad to have her under his wing. She was a smart and beautiful young lady, who had a similar fascination with the human kind as he did. She was his apprentice, well liked by all head of their organization. She was loyal and knew how to act without being directly told. She herself was a fascinating person, and that only made being in her presence that much entertaining and enjoyable. Working alongside her was a true joy.

“Minseok will come soon. Please do escort him here; I don’t know if he knows the way.”

As soon as she left the room, Yixing took the white sheet off of Baekhyun’s face. He was just as handsome as when he was alive. Well, perhaps not, but still; he could be nice to the dead.

Yixing brushed his fingers through the corpse’s hair. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Baekhyun,” he said in the empty room, looking at Beakhyun’s unmoving eyelids. “But you should have been more careful.”

He pried open one his eyes and stared directly into it. He didn’t know much about Baekhyun’s past or his connections, but when they’d met, he was alone and distressed. When he’d asked Baekhyun how he’d ended up the way he did, the other only smiled sadly and told him _“Never fall in love, Xing. People in love turn either mad or dumb. People who are loved know no loyalty.”_

He never asked again, but remained curious. “Perhaps now I’ll finally find out your secrets,” he got closer to Baekhyun’s face, looking at the still unmoving eye, the pale lips, the ghost white skin. “You were so noisy, but never told me much when you were alive; maybe dead you’ll talk less and speak more.”

Before he could engage more in the one sided conversation he had with Baekhyun’s corpse, the door opened. In came Sooyoung in tow with Minseok. When the older spotted the corpse, a frown came over his usually soft features.

“Didn’t think you’d start already.”

“I didn’t; I was just talking to him,” Yixing said, motioning to Sooyoung to give them a little privacy. She bowed her head and closed the door behind her softly without a question.

“Of course,” Yixing smiled at the other’s uncomfortable expression and sarcastic tone.

“Does he look any different form when you saw him last night?” he asked the older.

Minseok came closer and peered at Baekhyun’s still unmoving face. “Well, he’d dead, so there’s that.”

Yixing chuckled. Minseok was always so entertaining. He covered the corpse’s face with the white sheet and picked up the photocopied autopsy report.

“Do you remember when you left the church?”

“Not really, but I got home at about 1:30. When did he die?”

“His estimated death time is 2 o’clock. So it wasn’t you,” he looked up from the papers with a kind smile. “Not that I ever doubted you, of course.”

Minseok smiled too. “Of course not. I already told you all, if I were to kill him, I wouldn’t hide it.”

“There would be no need to hide it from us.”

Yixing kept turning the pages of the report, looking for more things that needed clarification. “Do you know if he had a gun with him?”

Minseok shook his head. “Our…” he trailed off, thinking of the right word, “argument never got that heated. No one pulled a gun on anyone.”

He hummed. “It wasn’t on his body. Neither was his phone or his watch.”

The older frowned. “That’s strange. Did he have anything on him at all?”

“His wallet, with the id inside. Whoever shot him wanted him to be identified.”

Silence settled over the cold room as both of them were lost in thought. Minseok took off the white sheet and looked more carefully at their dead associate’s face. When he moved his head to touch it, Yixing warned him to use gloves, and handed him a pair.

Minseok’s now gloved hand moved Baekhyun’s head around so he could get a better look at it.  He pointed at the upper lip, where there was a small scar.

“I don’t remember him having that, I think,” he said while lightly touching the scarred flesh. “I didn’t look much at his face, though. Perhaps I missed it.”

Yixing came closer as well to inspect it. “It’s written in the report too.”

“Maybe he got into a fight?” Minseok suggested.

“There are no other signs of struggle, and it doesn’t look like a bruise from a punch.” Yixing contradicted.

“Perhaps he’s been kissing someone? Do you know if he had any new lovers?”

Yixing shook his head and kept starring at Baekhyun’s pale lips. “Even if he did, why would they kiss in a church?” he chuckled as he lifted his face. “That would have been a very Shakespearean death, wouldn’t it?”

Miseok chuckled himself. “You’re more excited about his death than I am. And here I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Apologize? What for? Even if it was you, there would be no reason to apologize, to me of all people.”

Minseok regarded him with surprisingly soft eyes and a small smile. “He was your lover, after all.”

Yixing smiled at him sweetly. “’Was’ is right. That was a few months ago.”

“I still wanted to say it. If I didn’t ask him to meet me there, perhaps he’d still be alive. Not that I’ll miss him, but now we’re stuck in this mess.”

“And here I thought you were as heartless as he is now,” the doctor joked with a grin. Minseok would hate him is he said it, but he and Baekhyun were more alike that they cared to admit. They were both ambitious and cunning, loyally devoted to those they loved, to Jongdae in Minseok’s case, and to whoever the person Baekhyun loved so dearly that he admitted to being mad and dumb was. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, they would have been great friends.

“Let’s talk about what he wore,” Yixing picked up the report again, and skipped to the page about clothing. “Black coat, dark blue suit, white shirt, purple and yellow tie. Anything out of the ordinary?”

Minsoek shook his head. “No, that’s what he had on when we met, too.”

“So after you left, at about 1:15 let’s say, someone else came in and talked to him. Otherwise, I don’t see why he would waste about an hour alone in the church.”

“Who knows,” the older muttered.

“He was shot from the back, though.” Yixing said.

“Execution style, huh?”

“Regardless, I’ll see what I can get out of him myself,” Yixing said before the conversation turned too speculative. It would do them no good to make guesses. “Anyways, did you have any troubles getting his casinos?”

“Not for us. The others’ had a bit more trouble, though.”

Yixing chuckled and shook his head. “Poor Luhan, he couldn’t have been too happy. Although I’m sure he enjoys altercations more than you do.” Miseok himself laughed.

“Who were the witnesses to the autopsy?”

Yixing flipped to the page where the witnesses would be mentioned. He wanted to check it earlier, but he must have forgotten. It wasn’t like he’d known any of them. He didn’t know any of the alive policemen.

_WITNESS:_

_Detectives Lee Minhyuk and Ahn Jaehyo were both present during the autopsy, as they are the ones in charge of the murder case._

Yixing handed the report to Minseok. “Have you heard of them?”

The older frowned as he read the names. “No. But at least we know who to look for. I’ll call Kris and tell him; maybe he’ll find something.” He gave the report back, and asked “Do you need me for anything else? I promised Jongdae we’d have dinner together tonight.”

The doctor smiled. “You’re free to go. How are you and your little husband getting along, by the way?”

Minseok’s face fell, and he looked at the cold floor. “Not so good. He’s barely talking to me these days.”

Yixing felt sorry for his friend. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“I don’t know what to do, Yixing,” he sighed, rubbing at his temples tiredly. “I tried everything to get close to him. I think I apologized a hundred times, and he still barely talks to me.” He took a deep breath before looking at the other, straight into his eyes. “He’s scared of me, which is the worst part. He’s scared of being close to me, but he’s more scared of making me angry, so he _forces_ himself to be close to me.”

Yixing listened attentively to the other, and tried to come up with a suggestion. He wished greatly to help Minseok and his marriage. It wasn’t good to have the older so distracted.

“What do you think I should do?”

The doctor smiled and looked at the covered corpse lying on the autopsy table. “As you can see, I am not the best at relationships.” The image of Song Qian flashed in his mind, and he wondered if by society’s standards they were in a relationship. He wondered if Qian thought of them like that.

“You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but not a psychiatrist,” he answered jokingly.

Minseok waved him off, and Yixing wanted to laugh. It felt like talking to Baekhyun all over again. They were alike, indeed. “You know people, though. So tell me what you think I should do.”

“Well,” he began, putting on his doctor persona, “he’s disappointed, most probably. You lied to him, probably met him when he was at a vulnerable moment, and then took advantage of him. Even if that’s not what you did, that’s probably what he thinks. I suggest you give him time, and try to be as nice to him as you can. Make him fall for you all over again.”

Minseok was absorbed in his thoughts for a moment, before looking up and smiling gratefully at the other. “I guess he’ll get used to it, eventually.”

“He will,” Yixing agreed. “He has to. He doesn’t really have much of a choice.”

As if on cue, Sooyoung knocked on the door and came in. “Well, it’s time I left. If you need anything else, call me.”

“Of course. Thank you for coming, Minseok.”

“Thank you as well. And have fun, I guess.”

Yixing smirked as he put on his latex gloves, while Sooyoung got the knives ready. “Oh, I will. I’ve already seen inside Baekhyun, but never like this.”

Minseok cringed as he excused himself out of the room, leaving a laughing Sooyoung and Yixing in his way. After the two doctors have calmed down, they shared a kind smile.

“Shall we begin?”

 

*

 

Minseok was silent as Jaehyun was driving him back home. He texted Kris the names of the two detectives in charge of Baekhyun’s murder case, only for the other to tell him he already knew, and had a copy of the report. Minseok wasn’t surprised; Kris was always ahead in these things.

That morning he’d driven Jongdae to university himself, and even picked him up afterwards, not trusting the idiot that had been his driver until that time. What good was he if he couldn’t even notice they’d been followed for weeks? Minseok didn’t even think twice before he sent him off. He was glad when he didn’t see any car following after them. Jongdae was as silent as ever thought, but Minseok didn’t want to dwell on that. It wasn’t especially unusual these days, anyway.

After he’d driven Jongdae home, he had to leave again to see Yixing. He sighed as he thought of the doctor’s words. He didn’t exactly know what to do to make things right again, but if he managed to make Jongdae fall for him once, he was sure he could again. After all, it wasn’t like he’d lied about his personality, only his occupation, and even that wasn’t a _complete_ lie.

He’d try again, then. He’d try harder, be nicer, kinder. He could do it. It wasn’t like Jongdae could just divorce him tomorrow. He wasn’t stupid. He had to know he couldn’t just leave now as he pleased.

Minseok did feel guilty now that he thought of it. No wonder the other was upset with him. He probably thought Minseok had lied about everything.

He sighed loudly and rested his forehead against the cold window. He watched the city as Jaehyun drove them home. He was sure he could gift Jongdae the whole of Seoul and the other wouldn’t bat an eye.

When he reached his apartment, his mood was worse than when he left. Jongdae was sitting on the couch as usual, book opened in his lap and a blanket around his shoulders. He didn’t even look at Minseok when he entered. The older took off his coat and his shoes, and went to sit beside his husband.

As he plopped down on the couch next to him, Jongdae visibly flinched. Minseok chose to ignore that. He was disgusted to say that he was glad Jongdae was too afraid to deny him sometimes; he’d go crazy if he couldn’t even be close to him.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the quietness of his home. The place always felt too big for him, until he’d met Jongdae, of course. Whenever the younger would come over, the house felt alive and full of energy. Jongdae’s laughter used to echo everywhere. Now, however, it was back to the dead silence.

He listened to Jongdae breathe deeply, like he did when he was unsure or scared. Probably because Minseok was next to him. The thought made him want to scream.

Still, he had no intention to move, no matter how much distress he was causing with just his presence. He enjoyed Jongdae’s company. Even in silence. Even if the other didn’t feel the same.

Minseok didn’t know how much time passed just sitting there, listening to his husband breathe. He thought he’d try what Yixing said. He’d take Jongdae out tomorrow, wine and dine him at some fancy restaurant. Shower him with expensive gifts too. Jongdae didn’t like it when Minseok gave him presents before they got married, but now perhaps it would sweeten his mood. Perhaps he could get him a piano, so Jongdae could play at home. That would be quite lovely.

Suddenly, Jongdae’s uneven breathing turned ragged, and a sob broke the quietness of the room. Minseok’s eyes snapped open when he heard the other cry.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Jongdae’s head jerked in his direction. His eyes got wider, and filled with tears. “I-I thought you were sleeping-“

“Why are you crying, Dae?” He got up from his lying position to look at the other fully. He reached out to touch Jongdae’s arm, to soothe him and comfort him. The other didn’t flinch away.

“You-“ the tears were falling down his face, sobs breaking out of his throat. Minseok got the book from his lap and settled it on the coffee table. He moved Jongdae gently so they were facing each other. As he looked at his husband breaking down into tears in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms and hug him.

“You said- you said you’d take care of it! Minseok, you promised me!”

“Take care of what? Jongdae, please tell me, take care of what?” Minseok was dreading the answer.

Jongdae looked at him then, eyes and cheeks teary. It felt like a stab at Minseok’s heart.

“The people watching me.” His voice broke down by the end of his sentence, and he choked on his tears.

Minseok felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Baekhyun was dead, what else was there to do? Even if Minseok himself didn’t kill him, he was gone. The danger to his spouse was gone.

“I did, Jongdae. There was no car following you today. I took care of it, it’s all taken care of-“

“Not the car, Minseok! The one in my classes, that guy is still watching me!” Jongdae looked him dead in the eye.

“Are you sure it was the same person? Are you sure he was watching you?” he felt bad asking that, especially with the upset look that took over the other’s face. Still, part of him hoped Jongdae was imagining it.

“What do you mean am I sure? Of course I am! I wouldn’t have told you unless I was-“ he was starting to cry again, his tears mixing with his words, and Minseok could barely understand him.

“Alright, alright, calm down. Please breathe and calm down.” He pulled him in his arms then, rubbing his back softly as he cried in his chest for the second time that week. He wanted Jongdae closer, but not like this. He didn’t know whether to be glad or guilty.

“Is that man working for you? Is that why he won’t he go away?” Jongdae whimpered into Minseok’s shirt.

“He’s not. I have no one watching you in class, I promise.”

He thought of Baekhyun. He’d been sure the man was under his pay. But Baekhyun was _dead._ Minseok had seen his corpse, lying lifeless on a table, ready to be dissected. Baekhyun was no more, so why would that man still watch Jongdae? Unless, of course, it was someone else paying him, and not his deceased associate.

_“Just so you know hyung, I’m not the only fly on the wall.”_

Baekhyun’s words ringed in his head as he held Jongdae close. The thought that there was someone else, someone he didn’t know of watching his husband, was making him want to reach for his gun and fire it at the very next person he saw.

“You’re not going to school tomorrow.” He said firmly, hoping the other wouldn’t argue. However, this was Jongdae.

“What! You can’t do that! I need the attendance, Minseok! I can’t not go tomorrow!”

“I’ll take care of your attendance. You’re not going tomorrow.”

Jongdae left it there. Minseok could kiss goodbye his plan for making Jongdae fall in love with him all over again. As well as them dining together that night. The other didn’t talk to him for the rest of the evening, and when they went to sleep, Jongdae bundled up on his side of the bed with his back turned to Minseok.

Still, when Jongdae rolled next to Minseok during the night, he was more than happy to welcome him in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hardest thing in this chapter was definitely Baekhyun's autopsy. Just so you know, Baekhyun was shot in the same place as JFK, cause I couldn't find another autopsy report that was detailed enough. I kinda feel really bad cause I made Jongdae cry (again), so I'll try to give him a pov chapter soon.
> 
> Also, I couldn't think of anyone better than Yongguk to be the justice seeking policeman. He's such a great leader and amazing person, I feel like he fits this role really well. Also also, I know there are about 10 Lee Minhyuks in kpop, but this one is Block B's Lee Minhyuk. Don't worry too much, he'll maybe make one more appearance and that's it. They're mostly there to flesh out the story's universe.
> 
> Next chapter we get more xiuchen and Jun comes in, yay! Please look forward to it! ^^


	6. Chapter 6

_“Businessman Byun Baekhyun has been found deceased yesterday morning in Sinbi church, close to the outskirts of Seoul. The autopsy has revealed the cause of death to be a gunshot wound, straight to the head. No other details of his death have been released by the authorities as of now.”_

Minseok sipped his coffee as he watched the news, which were now broadcasting the death of his previous associate. It was a day later though, so word probably didn’t travel as fast as he though.

Across from him was seated Jongdae, who had yet to say a single word to Minseok. His darling, unusually quiet husband was eating his breakfast, and right behind him was the TV Minseok’s eyes were glued to. Normally he’d try anything to get back in Jongdae’s good graces, but he was too focused on the news broadcast to think of that now.

_“The police have revealed his estimated time of death to be around 2 am. They have not given us any more information on his murder-“_

The broadcast cut away from the news anchor to show some scenes from the church. They showed a brief shot of what he assumed was Baekhyun’s corpse in a black body bag, and another shot of the blood splattered on the stained glass Minseok had stared at that night. He let a grin stretch over his lips at the sight. It was just as he’d imagined it that night, when he thought of shooting Baekhyun in the head himself.

_“Byun Baekhyun was the owner of two high end clubs in the center of Seoul. As of now, one of his clubs, which goes by the name of Lotto, is reported to have been bought by businesswoman Jessica Jung-“_

Minseok frowned into his coffee cup as a picture of Jessica Jung appeared on screen, with her razor-sharp fake smile and perfectly in place blonde locks, and he cursed himself for not seeing that sooner. Jessica Jung, it couldn’t have been more obvious.

Everybody in the criminal underworld knew Jessica Jung. Renowned madame with her fingers in every major pie, she was involved in everything from prostitution, to drugs, to gambling, and while she might not be the top dog of any of them, she knew how to make connections and befriend those she should. Sometime ago, before he had the displeasure of knowing Baekhyun, Jessica Jung had tried her hand at the darker side of business too, and had expressed interest in trafficking as well. Sadly for her, Kris wasn’t about to let his monopoly slip through his ring covered fingers, so Miss Jung had kindly backed off.

She and Baekhyun were some sort of friends, or partners, or whatever, so it came to no surprise to Minseok that she was the one to inherit his best club. He wanted to slap himself for not seeing that coming from a mile away.

The more he thought of Jessica Jung, the more he wondered if she was the one to order Baekhyun’s death. Maybe she killed him herself.

The news broadcast moved away from the topic, and Minseok found his attention going straight back to his husband. This was definitely unusual for them, to have breakfast together. Usually, Minseok’s days consisted of waking up early, way before his husband, preparing him breakfast, and then getting ready himself. By the time Jongdae would be dressed and eating his breakfast, Minseok would be on his second cup of coffee. Jongdae’s driver would come next to take him to his morning classes, and Minseok would not-so-subtly demand a kiss from his spouse, which Jongdae reluctantly gave. From then on, his day would consist of going to his restaurants and checking to make sure everything would be in order, going to his casinos and doing the same, perhaps hitting the gym if he had nothing on his schedule, and by the time he’d come home, Jongdae would already be studying, or busying himself with anything so he wouldn’t have to talk to him. Minseok would cook for them, and coax conversation out of the younger over dinner, and on good days even kiss him goodnight or hold him to sleep.

On a normal day, he’d see very little of Jongdae, but would think of him constantly. He’d love to spend more time with the other, but Jongdae was a college student and had a lot of school work. He also seemed to absolutely detest being in the other’s presence, but rather than dwell on those thoughts, Minseok convinced himself that Jongdae was busy and stressed out because of his classes. So he entertained himself with the lovely memories of his darling from before their marriage. He now greatly cherished the kisses and hugs the other allowed, and thought of new ways to make the younger warm up to him again.

Perhaps spending more time together was the answer. After all, how was Jongdae supposed to see that Minseok truly and genuinely loved him if they didn’t spend time together?  After last night’s cry fest, he felt a little less confident in his plan of making Jongdae fall in love with him again, though. He hoped his lack of faith in himself wasn’t too noticeable.

Set on making the other warm up to him, Minseok took another sip of his coffee before speaking.

“So, is there anywhere you’d like to go to today?” he smiled kindly, and managed to maintain that smile even when Jongdae looked up at him unimpressed.

“To class.”

Minseok gritted his teeth, but managed to maintain the smile. He walked right into that one.

“Anywhere else?”

The look Jongdae shot him could freeze volcanoes, but Minseok didn’t back down. Smile still in place, he looked back at the other, staring right into his pretty eyes. Jongdae averted his gaze after a few seconds.

“I don’t wanna go anywhere.”

He let out a soft sigh. They could still spend time inside, he reasoned. They didn’t need to go to some fancy place to be together; they could be together right here, with the added bonus of privacy.

On second thought, he wasn’t sure if that was a bonus or not; Jongdae would probably be more comfortable if they were elsewhere, perhaps.

“Well then, is there anything you’d like to do? Inside?” he tried once again.

Jongdae shook his head, eyes glued onto his lap. “No.”

The sigh he let out now was more audible, and Jongdae visibly flinched when he heard it. Minseok couldn’t believe how much he’d fucked up. His husband used to be so lively, loud and happy and talkative. He almost couldn’t believe how quiet and reserved he was now. His darling Jongdae turned from a joyful but timid young man that could talk Minseok’s ears off to a man of a few words that flinched at barely a sound. And it was all Minseok’s fault.

Before he could dwell on his failure of a love life, his phone ringed loudly, which of course earned another flinch from his spouse. Minseok recognized the ringtone as the one he’d set specifically for Luhan, and cursed his friend, because he never called unless there was a problem or they needed to meet up.

Glaring at the phone, he grabbed the annoying device and resisted the urge to throw it at the wall and make the damn thing stop ringing. He threw a kind smile to his spouse quickly, and with an ‘I’ll be right back’ he went out of the kitchen and out of Jongdae’s earshot.

“What?” he growled into the phone.

 _“Well hello to you to. What’s with the sour attitude? You busy?”_ Luhan’s voice rang from the other side. Minseok could faintly hear some sort of music playing in the background.

“Yes.”

_“Whatcha doing?”_

_Oh, just trying to salvage my already failing 3-weeks-long marriage, so nothing much. How about you?_ Is what Minseok wanted to say, but settled for a “Nothing,” instead. “Why did you call?”

 _“We gotta meet up,”_ of course. He stifled a groan. _“All of us, at my casino. There’s stuff to do,”_

“I can’t come, I-“

 _“You just said you’re not doing anything, so you’re free. C’mon now, it’s not the time to argue.”_ Luhan sounded surprisingly calm, and Minseok didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line went dead in a second, and Minseok let out another loud sigh. Maybe this was good, he thought. Jongdae was not in the greatest mood, so he probably needed time to calm down. He could clear his head too, and think of a new way to make the younger feel at ease with him again. He could also ask the others for help, even though their relationships weren’t much better than his. He’d already stepped on his pride when he’d asked Yixing for some advice. Still, he’d do all he could to make things right again with Jongdae, and if the answer to his problems laid with Luhan, he could put up with the teasing and eye rolling if the advice paid off.

He went to dress up, putting on his suit and briefly wondering why the sudden meet up. He texted Jaehyun to come pick him up before he quickly put the gun into its holster and went back to the kitchen. Jongdae was still frozen in his seat, drinking his tea slowly. Minseok put on another smile before he spoke.

“I’m sorry baby, but I have to go.” Jongdae was probably glad he left, but he thought apologizing would be appropriate too. Hopefully it’d make Jongdae less angry. He reached for his husband’s hand, pleased when the other didn’t resist or pull back, and planted a small kiss over his knuckles. “If you need anything call me, alright?”

“Alright,” Jongdae answered simply, looking at him with wide eyes. He probably thought Minseok would ask for a kiss too, but he didn’t. He put on his coat at waved at the younger before leaving the apartment.

As he went down the stairs, he made several phone calls. He called some of his men that weren’t as incompetent as Jongdae’s previous driver, and entrusted them with watching the house and making sure nothing went out of hand, he called the managers of his restaurants and told them he’d drop by later. By the time he came out of his apartment building, Jaehyun was waiting for him in the car.

The boy drove him to Luhan’s casino in the center of Seoul, and Minseok spent that time thinking. His thoughts were a jumbled mess; his mind jumped from thinking of different ways of wooing his husband, to thinking of how to resolve the problem of Jongdae’s stalker, to occasionally thinking of Baekhyun and whoever off-ed him and brought a huge mess over their heads.

They reached the casino, and Minseok told Jaehyun he could spend his time in a café or something so he won’t wait in the car for however the meeting would take. His young driver agreed and left Minseok to walk in by himself. The casino was an overall tacky place with tacky décor. It looked more like a whorehouse than the classy casino it was supposed to be.

He spotted Luhan as soon as he stepped in. His friend was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and Minseok was suddenly reminded of when they were younger and would spend their entire nights in bars or clubs or casinos. He was also reminded that he was nearing 30.

“Isn’t it too early for drinking?” he asked Luhan. He took a seat next to his friend by the bar, and waved the barman away when he came to ask if he wanted anything.

“It’s just how I start my day,” Luhan replied, taking another sip of his drink. Minseok guessed it was whiskey. “You arrived pretty early. The others aren’t even here yet,” he took a better look at MInseok. “Also, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, you’re a real friend,” he muttered.

“No, really, what’s up?” Luhan asked grinning. “Is married life that bad?”

Minseok sighed deeply, and Luhan’s grin fell of his face. He really didn’t want to listen to the other’s matrimonial problems. Call him a bad friend, but he didn’t know how to deal with these types of problems. That was Yixing’s specialty.

“It’s just that…” Minseok began, and Luhan bit his tongue so he wouldn’t tell the other just how much he didn’t care. “He _barely_ talks to me! I don’t know what to do! I tried everything to get closer to him and he’s either scared of me, or angry at me! Can you believe it?!”

Luhan hummed, and took another sip of his drink. “Tell me about it,” he said nonchalantly, and Minseok (sadly) continued.

“I really miss it when he was happy and lively. Now he’s just… moody and mope-y.”

“You don’t say,”

Minseok glared at him. “You could actually try to help me, you know.”

Luhan side-eyed him. “You really want my help? Seriously?”

His friend groaned and buried his face in his hands. Luhan was disgusted. Why did ‘love’ turn people into sad, pathetic idiots? “I’ll take whatever I can get now. I mean, I can’t fuck up any worse.”

“What did you do to make him so upset, by the way? Other than letting him getting stalked by Baekhyun’s men, that is.”

Minseok let out another groan, and Luhan gestured to the barman for another drink. “It’s not even because of that! It’s just… partly because of that, actually,” he looked more and more miserable by the second, and Luhan wanted to go back in time and slap himself for that dumb joke. Now he had to listen and even _try to help._ “He’s angry because of the whole business thing, you know? That he didn’t know before we got married.”

“Wow! You didn’t tell him before you tied the knot?” He was honestly surprised. Judging from the way Minseok was talking about his husband, he’d think the other had his friend wrapped around his little finger (which also didn’t seem too far away from the truth). “That’s kinda mean, man. Even Kris told Jun before they got married.”

Minseok glared at him. “Of course I didn’t. I couldn’t risk telling him and then have him breaking up with me.”

“Ouch. That’s cold, Minseok.”

“Screw you, you would have done the same.”

“You must like him a lot, huh?” Luhan asked, ignoring Minseok’s reply. He got his answer as soon as a dreamy look took over Minseok’s face. “How old is he? You said he’s in school. Please don’t tell me you married a high school student,” he said, only half joking.

“Very funny. He’s 20, and in college,”

“Could have been worse, I guess.” He took a longer sip of his drink, watching as people were moving around in his casino.

“When is this meeting gonna start?”

“When the others get here,” Luhan answered.

Minseok rested his forehead on his crossed arms on the bar. “Got any suggestions, then? Stop criticizing me and start helping,” he muttered, not bothering to lift his head. He was already feeling guilty, he didn’t need Luhan of all people to call him out.

Luhan threw his head back and sighed. “I don’t know man, just fucking buy him something and maybe he’ll come around.” He didn’t know why Minseok expected him to know how to help him. He hadn’t had a real, stable, exclusive relationship since high school, and had no intentions of looking for one now. It just didn’t work in their lives. He didn’t understand how the others didn’t see that.

Minseok considered his solution. Even if Luhan was only saying it so he’ll drop the subject, there might be some wisdom in his indifference. “He didn’t like me buying him stuff before. I don’t think that’ll work.”

Luhan rolled his eyes. “Why the fuck is he married to you if not for your money, then?”

Minseok raised his head from his crossed arms and glowered. “Maybe because he loves me? Did you think of that?”

“Must be that stellar personality of yours that got him smitten,” Luhan muttered alongside the edge of his glass. “Well, even more then, if it’s not your money he likes, I think he’ll appreciate a nice, stupidly expensive gift that will make him feel compelled to be nice to you. Problem solved, you’re very welcome.”

The other let out another loud groan, and buried his head further into his crossed arms. Luhan wondered if it was marriage that cut Minseok’s age in half, since he was acting so childish. He rubbed his friend’s back and finished his drink.

“You know what you need, Minseok?”

“A new friend?” he mumbled.

Luhan shook his head, even if the other couldn’t see. “A drink.” He gestured for the barman to come. “Bring us some vodkas, will you?”

“It’s still too early for drinking,” Minseok countered, lifting his head again.

Luhan waved him off, and accepted the drink placed in front of him gratefully. “Life is too short Minseok, and yours isn’t going too well either,” he ignored the intensity of the other’s glare and continued. “Might as well enjoy it while you can, and have a small drink.”

“You’re just saying that so you won’t drink alone,” he said, but took a sip of the alcohol anyway. He definitely enjoyed it running down his throat.

“You caught me.”

A few seconds of silence passed before Minseok started talking. “So you think buying him gifts will actually work?”

Luhan groaned. He really thought they were done with that particular subject. “Are we not over this? I don’t fucking know!”

Minseok would usually have a snide remark, but he felt too bad. Alcohol didn’t seem to uplift his mood; quite the opposite. With every sip, he thought of just how much Jongdae has changed, and how he only had himself to blame. He wanted to keep Jongdae happy and sweet, to give him everything he desired, but all he managed to gift him was disappointment and lies. Even if his intentions weren’t all bad, Jongdae didn’t know that. He probably wouldn’t even believe Minseok if he told him, and who could blame the poor boy, really?

Luhan watched his friend’s internal struggle with a grimace of disgust. There went 3 out of his 4 friends and business partners, filling their heads with _love_ and whatever other dumb shit. He could only pray Yixing wouldn’t follow in their footsteps. He almost couldn’t believe that his friend, whom he used to waste his time with in bars and brothels, who didn’t look twice before beating someone bloody with a cane, was turned into a lovesick, melancholic idiot by a 20 year old kid. How the fuck did that happen?

“I just…” Minseok started, and looked at him with a kicked puppy dog look on his face. Luhan could feel all the alcohol coming back up his throat. He felt sick at the pitiful display of emotions. “I just miss him so much, you know? I miss his warm hugs, and his-his loud screaming-“

“Oh, poor you,”

“And his kisses… I could just kiss him whenever! Now it’s like pulling teeth! God, I just miss making out with him on the couch, and just running my hands down his back-“

Luhan almost choked on his drink, and looked at the other with wide eyes. “You really need to get laid, dude-“

Minseok however, was lost in his own little world. “God, I really just miss spending time with him, listening to him talk… and kissing him and hugging him and just… I miss that ass! He has such a nice ass, Luhan, it’s so shapely and cute, and I used to stoke it all the time when we kissed!”

“Oh please, tell me more about your husband’s ass,” he took a long sip of his drink. He cared for the other, sure, but he’d rather not hear all the details he didn’t need to know about. Like how nice what’s-his-face’s ass was.

“God, I just…” Minseok sighed, looking at his half full glass. “I just miss him so much.”

“Ok, I’m done listening.” He decided, putting down his glass with a little too much force, so some of the alcohol spilled. “Alcohol was supposed to make you feel better, not give you depression! You’re done drinking.” He said and took Minseok’s glass away, pouring what was left of it in his own glass. “Here’s my actual advice, since you crave it so much. Stop moping around about how much you miss him, and start doing something about it. Since it’s not your money he likes, there’s still hope, right? Just like, I don’t know, do what you did in the first place to make him like you, take him out, give him what he wants, and sooner or later he’ll come around.”

Minseok only looked more and more sad, and Luhan wanted to scream in frustration. “He wants me away, that’s what he wants. Did you even listen to anything I said so far?”

“Yeah, I did, and all I could hear was idiocy. Listen Minseok, we have no time for this, alright? Just like, do whatever you need to do to make him like you again or forgive you or whatever, so then you can fucking focus on work! And on the business! It’s not good for any of us to have you this distracted! You didn’t even ask what the meeting was about!”

“It’s about Byun’s death, what else?” he said, but thought over Luhan’s words. In a way, his friend was right. It wasn’t good for him to be this distracted, especially now, when someone they didn’t know was most likely targeting them and probably their loved ones as well. That reminded him of the other guy watching Jongdae, and that only angered him more.

He needed to fix up his marriage, not only for his own sanity, but for Jongdae’s sake as well. Since the younger had showed up in his life, he’s been Minseok’s anchor to sanity. His life revolved around Jongdae and his smile, and if Jongdae wasn’t happy, Minseok wasn’t good either.

“We’re getting too old for this shit,” he said. Luhan only nodded and drank more.

“It’s only now that the fun begins, my friend,” he turned his head to look at Minseok with a smirk. “Made up your mind, huh?”

Minseok let a smile take over his face as well. “I guess you’re good at giving marital advice. You should consider that a career.”

“Nah, I like this way too much, but thanks for the idea. Also, you’re welcome yourself, I just fixed your marriage.”

Minseok laughed, feeling much better now, ideas already going through his head as to how he should approach Jongdae next. “I think I’ll just come to you from now on for this sort of thing.”

Luhan threw him a terrified look and shook his head. “No thank you. I can’t deal with this shit again, it’s too much for me.”

“No really, you give Yixing a run for his money in the wisdom department.”

Both of them had a nice laugh for a few seconds. Minseok felt a little better, and Luhan was glad the subject would be closed for now. Before they could engage in conversation again, a young man came from the back of the casino to look for Luhan. He came to him as soon as he spotted him, and both men already knew the reason.

“Sir, Mr. Wu, and Mr. Zhang, and Mr. Park have arrived. They have-“

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. Come on Minseok, the meeting is starting,” he said as he got up from the chair, his alcohol glass still in hand. If the other 3 came with rants as headache inducing as Minseok’s, he’d need all the alcohol he could get.

 

*

 

Junmyeon sipped his tea, Minho’s voice a faint sound he could barely concentrate on. He was so tired, and his thoughts were too loud.

Yuta hasn’t come to school that day. He hadn’t come the previous day, either. He’d tried to ignore his absence yesterday and not dwell on it, but now his thoughts were running towards territory he didn’t want them to go. Yuta was probably fine, he told himself. He was perhaps just sick, or maybe he just didn’t feel like coming to school. After all, it’s only been two days, not two weeks. He was overreacting, surely.

He could barely sleep last night after not seeing Yuta at school, and when he was greeted with the same view of the empty seat this morning, his heart dropped. Every time he looked at that empty spot during the lesson, he was reminded of the other 2 students that have disappeared out of nowhere, both of whom have shown interest in him. Junmyeon might be a little oblivious to certain things, but he didn’t think Yuta’s behavior towards him could have been interpreted as romantic intent. But he could be mistaken; it wouldn’t be the first time.

No matter what, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Yifan had something to do with it.

He shook his head before that particular thought got out of hand. Thinking badly of his husband would do him no good. It wasn’t like he did anything to those other 2 students either. They just moved, yes-

“Junmyeon? Are you alright?” Minho’s voice and the hand o his shoulder shaking him pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized he’s been staring at his cup of tea for some time now.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” he said smiling. He saw his reflection in the liquid inside the tea cup, and thought his smile was nowhere near believable. He smiled wider then.

He took another sip of the now cold tea. He was so tired. He’d given up coffee almost a year ago, as it was spiking up his anxiety. Somewhere in his mind he was aware that it wasn’t the coffee making him uneasy, but he tried to convince himself otherwise.

“Are you sure? You’ve been spacing out for a while,”

Junmyeon smiled softly at Minho’s words. He didn’t want his friend to worry, but it was nice to know he cared.

“Yes, I’m sure. I was just thinking.”

“Hmm. About?”

Junmyeon gathered his thoughts, and tried to make himself look as normal as possible, giving no indication that he was troubled. “About this one kid in one of my classes. He hasn’t been coming to school; I hope he didn’t get sick.”

“Ah, that Nakamoto kid?”

Junmyeon almost dropped his tea cup when he heard Minho. Thankfully, the other wasn’t paying attention to him, looking instead out the window. Junmyeon put down the cup and clasped his hands together to stop the shaking he previously used to attribute to the coffee induced anxiety. He inhaled slowly before recollecting himself.

“Yes, him. Do you know something about him?”

Minho looked back to him with a confused look on his face. Junmyeon’s hopes dropped before the other even opened his mouth.

“What, you mean you didn’t know?”

Junmyeon’s throat felt tighter by the second. “Know what?” He was glad his voice didn’t sound too strained.

“He went back to Japan. I thought you knew? Apparently there was some family emergency, so he had to end the exchange period, or whatever.”

Junmyeon’s breath was turning more and more uneven by the second, and he was glad Minho didn’t seem to notice. Yuta’s image danced around in his mind, his thoughts running towards several possibilities, one worse than the other.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, Junmyeon. I was sure you did.”

“No, I didn’t know. Must have slipped the principal’s mind to tell me,” He was sure the principal had no intention of letting him know.

Yuta has been missing for two days. Two days ago, Yifan took him out for dinner, and then they went for a walk. Junmyeon had drunk a little bit too much, so he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It wouldn’t be too farfetched for Yifan to have something to do with his student’s disappearance.

As soon as he thought that, he had to fight off the tears that were threatening to spill. Yifan couldn’t have taken his student off; he had no reason. Even if Yuta had some sort of crush on him, Yifan wouldn’t just do something reckless like that. Not now, when he was taking a break from the business.

But the more he thought of Yuta, the more certain he was that his husband had a hand in his disappearance. He’d forgiven Yifan once, for making one of his students go away. He forgave him again, when the time came. He accepted Yifan’s apologies both times, and tried to convince himself that nothing like that would ever happen again. And he believed it.

Yet here he was, taking in the news of another sudden disappearance, and unlike previous times, he was now the last person to find out. Even Minho, who tended to be more forgetful, knew that Yuta was gone, but no one until now even thought of telling Junmyeon himself. No student, no fellow teacher, and definitely not the principal.

He took in a ragged breath, and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. He didn’t know what to do, or what to think. Would this change anything in his marriage? Would it make him leave Yifan? Was this the last straw?

 _No,_ was the first thing he thought. He couldn’t divorce Yifan now. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. He’d forgiven him twice before for similar things, so what was different now? He liked Yuta more than those other two students, sure, but thinking that way only made him feel worse. Why did his relation with Yuta make him feel worse, made him dare think of things such as divorce? Did he not care about those other two students? They deserved his grieving and his pity as well, and so did the other people Yifan has hurt over the years.

His eyes stung with unshed tears.

He reasoned his sudden headache was due to being in a closed space. Perhaps getting some air would do him good. He tried to divert his thoughts from what Yifan has done, what he probably did this time, what he’s done to so many people. He’d lied to himself for years, tried to convince himself that Yifan’s business was not what he knew it was, that his friends were nothing but associates in innocent dealings, that when Yifan came home late, smelling of smoke and chemicals he couldn’t name, it was not something unusual for a normal, upstanding businessman.

But the truth was too big to ignore for so long, and now it felt like reality was crushing Junmyeon’s world, the one he’d tried so hard to make himself believe existed.

“I’m going to get some air, Minho. I’ll be right back.”

His knees were shaking before he even took a step. His head hurt, his eyes hurt. A deafening ringing resounded in his head, and with that came a blur over his eyes. He took a few steps, relying on instinct and reflexes more than sight. The blur was making it harder and harder for him to see.

Another step meant another ragged breath. The ringing in his ears was becoming almost unbearable, and the blur has turned to a darkening fog. Junmyeon was more concentrated on walking than anything else, trying his hardest to brush away any thoughts of Yuta and Yifan respectively.

He didn’t know how far he’d made it before the raging headache took over him, and the darkness engulfed him. He didn’t realize when his legs gave out, or when he fell.

He blacked out well before that.

“Junmyeon!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! While I was writing it, I remembered that in the first draft of the story, Luhan was supposed to be the cop, and Minseok's ex lover, who ended up getting shot before Minseok met Jongdae. Let's just say a lot of things changed between the first draft and the final product. Also, let's just pretend for the sake of this story that gay marriage is legal in Korea.
> 
> I realised that I didn't give too much information about anyone's age other than Jongdae, so here is a list of their respective ages in this story. I tried to keep some age differences the same.  
> Minseok - 29  
> Luhan - 29  
> Yifan - 28  
> Junmyeon - 27/28  
> Yixing - 27/28  
> Chanyeol - 26  
> Baekhyun - 26  
> Kyungsoo - 25  
> Jongdae - 20  
> Jongin - 19  
> Sehun and Tao are 18 and 20 respectively, but I don't know yet how much of a role they will play in the story.
> 
> Also, OMG EXO PERFORMED AT THE OLYMPICS!! I'm honestly so proud of them, they did an amazing job. Even my dad loved it, haha. I really am just so happy for them, and I hope they'll get some well deserved rest 
> 
> Anyways, next chapter the meeting (and some other stuff) takes place. Please look forward to it!! ^^


	7. Chapter 7

 “What the fuck?” Yongguk stood frozen by the door of the Chief Officer’s office, looking from the Chief Inspector to the young man sitting in a chair, avoiding Yongguk’s eyes at all costs. He recognized him; he was a newer detective, just promoted from officer a couple of weeks ago. The boy would regularly stare at Yongguk in what he probably thought was a sneaky manner.

“Close the door and sit down.”

Yongguk listened to his boss’ words and did as told. He sat down warily, eyes still darting from the Chief Officer to the young detective, and back again. When he was called in by the Chief Officer, he’d dared hope it was to get him reinstated. It’s been already a week of his forced vacation. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Detective Bang, this is young detective Choi Junhong,” his superior said, gesturing towards said young detective.

The younger smiled awkwardly at him. Yongguk only stared back confused.

“Umm, nice to meet you,” the younger extended his hand for a handshake. The poor boy sat there frozen, looking at Yongguk hopefully, before throwing a desperate look to the Chief Officer when the older detective remained with his hands crossed. Their superior sighed.

“Anyways, there’s a reason I called you here.”

Yongguk looked at him with red eyes, tired from the lack of sleep, the hangover, and the can of beer he’d drained just 15 minutes ago.

“Okay…” he muttered suspiciously, his mind already going haywire. Had the boy noticed something he shouldn’t have? Did he report Yongguk for something? He was always watching him, maybe he noticed his fidgeting and attempts at secrecy while he checked _the list._ Just that thought alone made Yongguk more and more nervous. What did this kid know? What did he say?

The Chief Inspector opened his desk drawer, and grabbed something from inside. Yongguk was sweating already. This was it; he’d be thrown out the window. He could expect to be gone by tomorrow morning then.

“You’ve been put on leave for a month now, detective Bang, after the unfortunate passing of your previous partner,” Yongguk inhaled sharply at the mention of Himchan. He could already hear his superior’s next words. _The two of you were snooping where you shouldn’t have._

“Even thought you barely left the office, despite my and your fellow colleagues’ advices,” the Chief Officer said with a scolding glare. He couldn’t even feel sorry; he was too busy fighting off the paranoia induced shaking. He briefly wondered if there was perhaps a hidden camera on the board behind his desk. If by some miracle he wasn’t called in to be fired, he’ll definitely check later.

“I think you’ve spent enough time grieving. If you don’t want to listen to us, well…” he trailed off, and a cold sweat overtook Yongguk. He closed his eyes, only for the images of Minhyuk and Jaehyo to pop up in his mind. He could almost hear them chastising him. _We told you to stay away. We warned you and you didn’t listen._

He already knew there were rats among the police ranks. He hadn’t been careful enough, and it was time he paid for it.

Perhaps he could beg for forgiveness. He wasn’t one for begging, wasn’t one for succumbing to the words of corrupt officers and gangsters. But he only had one life, and wanted nothing more than to make his best friend’s death count, to know he didn’t die a meaningless death.

“We might as well reinstate you now,” he said and placed something right in front of Yongguk.

He gathered up the courage, because he was _not_ a coward, and opened his eyes. He couldn’t believe what was in front of him.

His badge.

What?

“What?” he muttered, and looked at the Chief Inspector with wide eyes.

“Young detective Choi needs a mentor; you might as well get back on the field. Noting serious yet, of course, but there’s no reason for you to be left on leave if you don’t require it. You barely leave the office anyway, like I said. Might as well be of some use,” his superior explained, gesticulating softly. Yongguk found himself concentrating on the waves of his hand, since he could barely believe what he was hearing. He was getting reinstated?

“You will have to _quit_ drinking at work now, by the way. Got it?” he asked with a hard and intimidating look. Yongguk nodded his head quickly a few times.

“Yes, yes. Of course. No more drinking at work.”

The Chief Inspector smiled. “Good. Well then, from now on, detective Choi is your new partner. He’ll move to the desk next to yours-“

Himchan’s desk. His sadness must have shown on his face, since his superior’s features softened quickly.

“I know it’s hard, Yongguk, but you need to move on. You can’t grieve forever.”

He nodded slowly and forced a small smile at his superior. He hoped it looked convincing enough.

“I know you’ll make a good mentor to young detective Choi. I’m putting my trust in you.” He pushed the badge on his desk closer to Yongguk. He took it and stared at the cold piece of metal.

The assurance he expected to come with the badge was instead replaced by uneasiness and worry. He felt even more pressure put on him now; the need to be subtle, to be careful, to not get caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Every move he would make from now on would be watched, either by his new partner or by fellow detectives.

Yongguk looked up and smiled tightly at his superior. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you, sir.”

“I’m sure you will. Now off with you two, you need to get to know each other,” he had almost forgotten about his new charge. When he looked at the boy, the younger sent him a small smile.

“What about our first assignment?” Yongguk asked hopefully. He wanted nothing more than to be put on the case of Byun Baekhyun’s murder. He doubted he’d get his wish though.

“You’ll start back with some lighter stuff. Don’t worry about that yet.”

Yongguk nodded, trying to hide his disappointed. The younger detective got up as well, and the two of them moved towards the door.

“Yongguk,” his superior called to him. Yongguk looked back at him.

The man smiled, a genuine looking smile. He extended his hand to him, and said “It’s good to have you back, detective Bang.”

When they shook hands, his boss had a strong grip on his hand. Yongguk looked into his eyes, dark and deep. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else going on, some layer on the surface that he didn’t see. His superior’s stare was intense, and he wondered if he should take it as a warning.

Perhaps he was thinking too much into it. Maybe his paranoia was getting out of hand, and he suspected everyone of trying to take him out.

It made his head hurt more than alcohol ever did. He wanted people to believe him, but he was too suspicious of everyone around him.

“Well then, off you two go. And remember to take it easy, detective Bang.”

Yongguk nodded and exited the office, his new charge following behind him. As he walked towards his desk, he could feel the other detectives and staff starring at him. He expected the gossip to start by tomorrow, perhaps sooner.

When he reached his desk, he hesitantly picked up Himchan’s framed photo. He’d grown so used to seeing his face every day for the last 15 years.

He quickly composed himself, and turned back to his new partner. “This will be your new desk from now on,” he said, gesturing towards the now empty desk seated next to his. The boy smiled awkwardly at him in return.

“I’ll go grab my things, then…” the younger said, and quickly left. Yongguk sighed and sat down in his own chair.

He placed the framed photo on his desk. Himchan’s picture was staring back at him. Maybe if Yongguk drank enough, he could believe it was his friend looking back at him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by his new charge appearing with a box full of his belongings. The young detective started to place things on his desk, and Yongguk found it to be weirdly fascinating to watch him. He found himself quickly absorbed in the way the younger was placing pens and pencils inside a plastic cup. It made for a nice distraction from his usually loud thoughts. Perhaps he could even sneak in a beer while he pondered what to do with his ongoing-but-on-a-break-for-now investigation. He’d definitely need to find a way around that, now that he got a new partner.

“Junhong,” he called the younger. He might as well start on the mentor thing sooner than later.

“Yes, detective Bang?”

“You can call me Yongguk,” he said nonchalantly. “What do you wanna do first? I guess you know the station already, so you don’t need a tour, right?”

The boy shook his head. “No, I don’t need a tour. Umm, detective Ba- I mean, Yongguk-hyung, there’s something I gotta tell you…” the boy trailed off, looking more and more nervous by the second. That certainly got Yongguk’s attention.

“What is it?”

Junhong looked around the office warily, as if scanning the area. Yongguk did the same, his curiosity only growing. There was no one paying attention to them at the moment.

“Yongguk-hyung,” he looked back at the younger. His eyes were bright and shining. “I want to help you!” the boy whisper-yelled, a large grin on his face, half confident, half unsure.

Yongguk did his best to keep a straight face, despite the nervousness he felt. “Help me with what? I haven’t had an assignment in a month.”

He feared the next words that came out of the young detective’s mouth.

The boy did another quick inspection of the office before speaking. “I want to help you with… the case,” he whispered, his eyes wide. “You know, _the_ _secret case_.”

He knew. The boy _knew._ Yongguk’s palms were sweating. He could feel his breath coming out more ragged by the second, and he found it hard to focus on anything around him other than his thumping heartbeat.

A thousand ideas came and went through his head. The boy was a spy, a rat of The Scorpions sent in to play mind games with Yongguk and find out what he knows. The Chief Inspector was in on it too, that’s why he gave him that threatening look. Minhyuk and Jaehyo had to be involved as well, and so were who knows how many people, and-

“Yongguk-hyung? Are you alright?” the boy asked as he waved his hand in front of Yongguk’s eyes. He only now realized just how fast his heart was beating. Sweat was running down his face, and with shaky hands, he pulled the second drawer of his desk open, and grabbed a can of beer. He opened it quickly and drained it in less than a minute.

He took his time calming down, forced himself to breathe in deeply and evenly. The alcohol was working slowly, but it was succeeding in making Yongguk loosen up and relax his nerves.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked back at his worried new partner, he leveled him with a hard glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coldly, thinking that his reply was for sure going to shut the younger up.

He was proven wrong, however, when a frown took over the boy’s face. “What? You can’t just act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about!”

Yongguk looked at him with the same cold expression. “You must be crazy, kid. There’s no secret case I’m working on.” The words sounded strange from his mouth, especially after he’d freaked out and emptied a whole can of beer.

“You can’t just pretend now! C’mon, I really wanna help you! And I _know_ you’re working on something! I’ve seen you try to grab that file in your desk. You’re the least subtle person ever, by the way! You’re basically screaming that you’re hiding something!”

Yongguk was offended. “I do not! Look, whatever things you’ve heard, whatever anyone told you, there’s no secret case. Drop it.”

The boy looked even more determined then, and Yongguk wondered if it was too late to go back and ask to be put on leave again.

“Please, Yongguk-hyung!” Junhong grabbed and pulled at his sleeve. “I really want to help you! I want to take down The Scorpions too!”

Yongguk’s blood ran cold, and panic shot up thought him.

He got up quickly, pulling his hand away from the boy’s wrist. He turned towards the corkboard behind him. He glared at the posters and random papers stuck onto it, before he grabbed the damned thing at the edges and pulled it off the wall.

He tried once, twice, and on the third try he managed to get it off. He settled it on his desk, ignoring the whispers that started to blossom through the office, as well as Junhong’s very confused face. He looked at the now blank wall. Nothing there, aside from a few nails sticking out of the wall. No cameras, then.

He turned back to his desk, and stuck his hands under it, feeling all over the underside for any small devices. None.

Yongguk looked at Junhong with a crazed look in his eyes. “What do you know?” he asked while pointing at the younger. The boy looked visibly uncomfortable.

“Umm, well, I know you’ve been looking in on The Scorpions-“

“Shh!” he shushed the boy and scanned the office warily. No one was paying them attention anymore. Yongguk was almost glad he was considered mad; people tented to overlook his stranger behavior.

He sat down, and gestured for the other to do the same. After the boy complies, Yongguk leaned in and said quietly. “Watch what you say! You can’t just go and scream that everywhere.”

Junhong looked at him incredulously. “Umm, you used to talk about The Sc- _them_ all the time before though!”

Yongguk didn’t like the kid acting smart with him, even if he was right. After no one listened to him and HImchan, they stopped trying to get others to be on their side. After Himchan’s death, paranoia made him even more reluctant to preach about conspiracies of organized crime. “How would you even know that? You’ve been here for about two weeks.”

The younger pouted at him. “Everyone is talking about how crazy you are, with your conspiracies! It’s really not that hard to find out, you know!”

Yongguk frowned at him, but didn’t contradict him. “Anyways, what is it you know?”

“As I said, I know you’ve been looking into _them,_ and I wanna help you.”

“And what do you know about _them?”_

The boy shook his head. “Not much, other than the usual stuff. I know they run the streets, that no one wants to talk about them, and that they’re responsible for a lot of murders, and-“

“Murders?” Yongguk asked, though he wasn’t especially surprised. He hadn’t heard of any specific murders that The Scorpions were directly responsible for on the streets (aside from Himchan’s, and that one wasn’t confirmed, even if he thought otherwise), but it wouldn’t be impossible.

Junhong’s expression turned dark and serious, a great departure from the awkward smiles and large, excited grins he’d seen so far. “My father, he…” the boy looked down at his lap, and Yongguk understood without him having to continue. Junhong went on after he composed himself. “He used to do some… unlawful work, you know? And somehow he ended up working for the wrong people.” The younger looked into his eyes, orbs no longer shining.

He whispered the next words so quiet, Yongguk had to listen closely to hear him. “I heard him talking on the phone a few years ago; he said _their name,_ told whoever was on the phone that he’d talk to them and make sure things were in order. A few days later, he was gone. Police never even found his body.”

Yongguk took in the words, sympathy for the younger blossoming in his chest. “I’ve never told anyone this. Ever since then, I wanted to take them down, and when I heard you were looking into them, I asked the Chief Inspector if he could make me your partner.” There was nothing but sincerity and determination in the younger’s eyes. “Please let me help you.”

He took in a deep breath, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He was wary, but overall, he was happy. Someone out there _believed him._ Someone wanted to help him, someone in the police was rightful and just and wanted criminals behind bars.

“Alright,” Junhong’s face lit up immediately, but Yongguk continued before the boy could speak. “But we won’t talk about this here. It’s too…” he trailed off, but the younger nodded nonetheless.

“Of course, I understand. Where would we talk, then?”

“There’s this old bar, which doubles as a poker house. Not many people go there, but it’s frequented enough so we won’t draw attention.” They could say they were celebrating their partnership if anyone from the station asked. It also was no secret that Yongguk had something of a drinking problem. It was the perfect spot.

“Great. When are we going?” the boy’s bright smile was back, almost too quickly. Yongguk tried not to think too much into it.

“Now. Go grab your coat.” The younger complied immediately.

Yongguk stole a glance to Himchan’s framed picture, now resting on his desk. He sent a small smile to the unmoving picture of his friend.

 

*

 

Luhan strutted towards the room at the back of the casino, trying his hardest to walk in a straight line. The 3 or so glasses of alcohol had finally got to him. He was pleased when he saw his employees getting out of his way, and watching him warily.

He entered the room, designed especially for meetings and other illicit affairs. Drink in hand, Luhan greeted the others smoothly before going to lie down on the couch. He very much felt like he owned the entire fucking place (which he did by the way, thank you very much). He didn’t even notice Yixing’s amused stare.

Minseok walked in after Luhan, small smile in place. His mood had finally lightened, and he was somehow excited to get the meeting started. His smile widened when he saw Chanyeol in particular, the taller texting on his phone.

“Chanyeollie,” the taller looked at him with interest. “How expensive is a piano? A good one?” he asked with a large smile, completely ignoring Luhan’s ‘Oh my fucking god,’ from the other side of the room.

The redhead’s face split into a wide grin, almost matching Minseok’s own.

“Hyung, how did you know I wanted one?!” he exclaimed, looking at the other with big, sparkly eyes. At Minseok’s confused face, his smile started to falter at the edges. “For… my birthday..?”

Minseok’s eyes widened in understanding, before smiling awkwardly. “Ah, yes, yes, your birthday. Well, if you want one, I can totally get it for you, sure. I was asking for Jongdae, actually, but I can still get you one.”

Chanyeol’s expression softened, morphing into one of understanding. His large grin was swapped for a kind smile. “That’s so nice of you, hyung! I can help you pick a nice one for your husband, if you wanna,”

Minseok beamed happily at the taller. “Thank you, Chanyeol!”

He turned his head from the redhead to focus on Yifan next. He looked at him from head to toe with interest. Yifan seemed a little uncomfortable with the sudden attention from the older, but Minseok paid him no mind. He had no interest in Yifan _himself,_ but rather on what he was wearing.

Yifan had really nice clothes. He was always decked out in expensive stuff, always had Junmyeon decked out in expensive stuff, and Minseok had to admit he’d been a little bit jealous for some time. Not because of the clothes, but because he too wanted someone to spoil with such things. He wanted someone to show off, someone to dress up nicely and gift with extravagant presents. And now he had his dearest Jongdae. However, his darling never liked it when he bought him things. Still, that was before they got married, so perhaps now he’d be more inclined to accept gifts. He had no reason to think he was taking advantage of Minseok’s generosity now.

Minseok himself didn’t care for expensive clothing; the only fine things he had were his suits, which were custom made, as per Yifan’s request that they should dress in such a way as to demand respect.

“That’s a nice coat you got there,” he told Yifan as he looked closely at said coat. “It sure looks… expensive…”

Their leader was visibly uncomfortable with Minseok’s behavior and the sudden attention. “Umm, thanks, it’s Burberry…”

Yifan tried hard to keep his face impassive as the other came closer to inspect him. “That’s expensive, right?”

“Minseok, are you okay?” he asked, a little worry laced with his deep voice. Minseok was definitely acting strange.

“Oh yes, I’m fine. Just in a good mood, it’s all,” he answered with a smile, only ensuring Yifan’s confusion.

Luhan scoffed at his associates from across the room. “Yixing, can you believe this?” he asked, pointing with his glass before taking a sip. “This is absurd,” he said around a mouthful of alcohol.

Yixing looked at his friends with a pleased smile. Chanyeol was busy on his phone, a wide, silly, genuine smile on his face that made Yixing suspect he was talking to Kyungsoo, while Minseok was pestering Yifan with questions of fashion the other answered confused. It was weirdly endearing to watch them.

“What is it that you find absurd, again?”

Luhan frowned (Yixing would argue it was more of a pout) and took another sip of vodka. “This! They’re acting like fools!” he complained (whined), and Yixing stifled a laugh. “Like lovesick fools.”

“Well, Yifan is acting the same. Chanyeol too, actually.”

The older huffed. “Yeah, well, Yifan is a little more subtle I guess, but I can still sense it. And Chanyeol is already a lovesick dumbass.” He finished his drink before saying, “It’s seeing them together that just made me realize how dumb they’re acting.”

Yixing smiled down at his friend. “You’re too mean, Luhan. You should be happy your friends are in love. Or are you jealous?” he said with a smirk.

Luhan made a disgusted sound. “As if. I’m perfectly content.”

“I would say you’re lying, but I believe you. I can hardly image you being tied down to someone.”

“You and me, Yixing. We’re the last bachelors standing.” Yixing chuckled at the other’s words, and thought briefly of Dr Song.

“Sorry to disappoint you Luhan, but I do have someone,” he said nonchalantly. The older waved him off.

“Call me when it’s serious, then.”

He full on laughed then. “Don’t hold your breath, dear friend.” The smile Luhan gave him was cocky, but Yixing could see the sincerity behind it.

It was gone as soon as it appeared though, when Luhan exclaimed “Can we get this meeting started now, please?!”

Yifan was more than glad to end his conversation with Minseok, and moved towards the middle of the room. “Luhan is right; we have important things to talk about.”

From inside his coat, he pulled out a brown file, which he threw on the small coffee table. All eyes were immediately on him.

“I managed to get a copy of the police report.”

Chanyeol and Luhan congratulated him with bright grins, and moved to look over the report.

“How did you manage to get it?” Minseok asked.

“Those two detectives that you said were witnesses to the autopsy, who are also in charge of the case, just so happen to work for Woo Jiho. You know him, Chnayeol.” Yifan said, pointing to the tall redhead.

“Oh yeah, Zico!” he exclaimed with a smile, police report still in his hands, which Luhan tried to snatch without much success. “He helped you?” he asked with a confused frown. Woo Jiho was not exactly a friend of theirs, but not an enemy either. They left each other to their own devices.

When Yifan nodded to Chanyeol’s question, Minseok asked “Free of charge?”

Their leader huffed. “I wish. We’ll have to pay him back at some point for the favor, but he said it’s no big deal. He also said the detectives will close the case in two weeks tops, and won’t look into it.”

“That seems like a pretty big favor, doesn’t it? Why would he just help us like that?” Luhan said, looking through the report himself.

“Beats me, but we’re in no position to ask questions now. We’ll take care of that when time comes.”

The others were quiet for a while, until Yixing spoke. “Baekhyun’s autopsy didn’t reveal anything of importance,” he too pulled out the report from inside his coat, and handed it to Kris. “Nothing of relevance between his death and his and Minseok’s meeting, either.”

Yifan hummed and looked through the autopsy report carefully. “He was shot from the back?” he asked finally.

The doctor nodded. “I couldn’t get a hold of the bullet from the evidence safe, but I didn’t think we’d need it for anything.”

“It would be useless now.” Luhan commented.

“Baekhyun didn’t have a gun on him?” Yifan asked confused. Chanyeol frowned too from across the room.

“Now that’s strange…” the redhead commented.

“He either didn’t have one, or whoever killed him removed it afterwards.” Minseok said.

Luhan’s fingers drummed along the side of his empty glass. “There’s no way Baekhyun would go to a private meeting without a gun. My bet is on that second option.”

The two reports moved across the room, from one pair of hands to another. When the police report finally reached Minseok, he asked jokingly before looking through it, “Did that priest say something? Should I expect the police knocking down my door?”

Chanyeol’s smirk was all teeth and mischief. “Don’t worry, hyung, no one will come ruin your newlywed time with your husband.”

Yixing chuckled from his seat at Minseok’s frown. “He didn’t say anything incriminating, so don’t worry,” with a darker look in his eyes, he added “But I still think you should perhaps _suggest_ he doesn’t cross us again.”

“Wait until the case is officially closed, at least,” Yifan muttered.

“Did you see who took Baekhyun’s club?” Minseok asked while reading priest Johyun statement.

“Jessica Jung, yeah,” Chanyeol answered, an unlit cigarette now between his lips. “I told you guys the press would get into this,” he muttered.

“I almost cried when I saw that club being taken. That was a goddamn gold mine,” Luhan groaned. He hadn’t been many times to Lotto, but he knew it well enough. It was profitable, very useful for anything from money laundering, to dealing all kind of substances. Seeing it slip away from their fingers was a little more than disappointing.

“I assume that’s why you didn’t want us to take it?” Yixing asked Kris, who shrugged.

“It would have gone to her anyways. It was useless to even try.”

Luhan frowned (pouted). “What about the second one? Who’s taking Baekhyun’s second club?” It was nowhere as glamorous or as useful as Lotto, but Luhan thought they might as well benefit more from Baekhyun’s death. A few casinos and brothels didn’t seem as payment enough for all the hassle they went through.

Kris however, shook his head. “Not us. I’m betting on Kim Hyoyeon snagging it.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Luhan mumbled.

“Do you guys think she killed him?” Minseok asked finally, after a few moments of silence in the room.

“Jessica? Do you?” Yixing asked back, eyes dark.

“It could be a possibility,” Chanyeol said, a now lit cigarette between his lips. “She would certainly have a motive,” smoke came out of his mouth with each word.

“One club is not enough of a motive, though.” Yifan replied, searching for his own cigarette case. “And she was Baekhyun’s associate. I don’t think she did it.”

“Such an associate she was, taking his shit two days after his death.” Luhan commented, only to have Yixing chuckle at his words.

“We took his brothels and casinos one day after his death, though. We’re not much better.”

Silence settled once more over the small room, the only sounds now being Kris and Chanyeol blowing out smoke, and Luhan drumming his fingers along the leather of the couch.

“There’s something else, by the way,” Minseok’s voice broke the quietness of the room. “One of the people watching Jongdae wasn’t working for Baekhyun.”

A frown settled over Yifan’s features. “Why would you think so?”

“He’s still watching him, despite the others fucking off.”

“Did Baekhyun’s warning get to you?” Kris asked.

“Warning? He gave you a warning?” Chanyeol inquired, worry in his voice that he didn’t manage to control.

Minseok nodded. “Yeah. Well, kind of. After I told him to stop following Jongdae around, he told me he’s not the only one watching. I didn’t think much of it until last night.”

“Are you sure your boy-toy husband isn’t just having some sort of paranoia induced hallucination or something?” Luhan asked nonchalantly, completely ignoring the glare thrown his way, and Chanyeol’s quiet gasp of shock.

“Yes I’m sure!” Minseok snapped, fists clenching at his side. Were Luhan someone else, he wouldn’t have hesitated to put a bullet through his head.

“It wouldn’t hurt looking into it, anyways.” Yifan chimed in, trying to avoid a fight. “Find out who’s watching your husband, and then we can perhaps question him.”

“Yes, we could look into it. Might as well make sure, if nothing else.” Yixing said in a soft tone, trying to lighten up the mood. “Who knows, we might even find out who killed our dear Baekhyun.”

“Well, that settles it, then! Anything else we need to talk about?” Chanyeol exclaimed with a grin, clapping his hands.

“Yes,” Yifan replied, searching his pockets for his phone, which has started buzzing. “We’re meeting with Heechul tonight, you and me. To talk about providing us with more dope for the brothels.” He frowned at his buzzing phone before declining the call.

Chanyeol let out a relieved sigh. “Thank god you’re coming! I wouldn’t be able to go through a meeting with that man alone.”

“I will never understand why you fear him, Chanyeol. He’s not as terrifying as you make him.” Yixing said chuckling.

“You can’t say he’s not intimidating, though. I find him unsettling too,” Luhan supplied, watching as Yifan’s phone rang one more time. Their leader huffed angrily before answering it with a sharp _“What?”_

“Right! I knew I wasn’t the only one! I’d rather not deal with him alone,” Chanyeol said.

Yifan’s face fell in a second, as his breath caught up in his throat. He turned as pale as a sheet.

“I don’t think he’s so bad, actually,” Minseok responded, significantly calmer. “I really wonder if he’ll work with us anymore, he really liked Baekhyun. For some reason.”

Yifan could barely believe the words he heard, and had to force himself to breathe and try to keep relatively calm.

“Pfff, be real, he has to! We’re paying him!” Luhan exclaimed. “After all, he’s worked with us longer than he knew Baekhyun. I wouldn’t worry.”

The line cut off, and Yifan was left starring at his phone. His hands were shaking. His heart was beating out of his chest.

“Can’t wait to get done with that meeting, really-“

“Yifan, are you alright?” Yixing cut Chanyeol off, looking at their stunned leader. All eyes were on him then, regarding him with worry.

The taller took in a ragged breath, pocketing back his phone. His eyes were glued to the floor. When he managed to speak, his voice was rough and unsure.

“Yeah, I’m…” he paused, trying to keep his expression and emotions in check. He raised his eyes to look at his friends. “Junmyeon, he…” he paused again to calm his hammering heart. “Jun’s in the hospital. He fainted at school.” He said finally.

The others eyes widened immediately.

“What? What happened to hyung? Is he alright?” Chanyeol asked, eyes saddened, worry creeping up in his brain. His thought flew to Kyungsoo in a second, and his heart ached.

“Tao said he’s mostly fine.” Yifan breathed out. “I’ll go see him. Call me later, Chanyeol,”

“Let us know what’s going on as soon as you can, Yifan,” Yixing said softly, smiling gently at the older. He nodded and left the room with a few long strides.

A deafening silence settled over the four men, no one daring to say a thing.

Minseok ran his shaking hand through his hair, a sigh leaving his lips. “I’ll go call Jongdae, wanna make sure he’s alright.” with that, he left the room.

“I’ll go call Kyungsoo too,” said Chanyeol, and stormed out of the room as well.

Luhan looked at the empty glass sitting on the table, both reports opened next to it, papers scattered messily. Yixing closed them carefully and pocketed them both inside his coat. Luhan looked up at him with a look Yixing couldn’t quite read, but smiled softly nonetheless.

“You and me, huh, Luhan? The last bachelors standing.”

The older chuckled with a small smile of his own. “Care for a drink, Yixing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! First off, I am really sorry I couldn't post it last week. I usually update the story every 2 weeks, but last week I just couldn't. I'll try to keep the 2 weeks schedule, but sometimes chapters may come later.
> 
> In other news, omg Suho's new station song came out, and it's soo good!! He sounds gorgeous, he looks gorgeous, I'm really happy my bias gets to shine, if only a little. Definitely recommend listening to it if you haven't already!!
> 
> Also, CBX's Korean and Japanese comebacks have been confirmed, yay!! Hope the boys will get enough rest though.
> 
> Next chapyer, we'll get Jongdae's pov, and Kris and Jun will have a very interesting talk. Please look forward to it!!


	8. Chapter 8

Jongdae didn’t like lazing around. He wasn’t used to it. He always had something to do; going to classes, studying, talking to friends, and even working before he met Minseok. Having a whole day to himself to do basically nothing was unusual. All that free time left his thoughts free to wonder too far.

He huffed and kicked his legs on the couch. He stared at the white ceiling, the TV playing some show he had no interest in. He was so _bored._ Jongdae couldn’t go out, had nothing to do, and no one to talk to. On top of that, he felt extremely uneasy in the big apartment all by himself. He’d always thought Minseok’s apartment was too big for only one person, and being all alone in it was just weird.

He still felt like a stranger in Minseok’s house. Or rather, _their house,_ as the older always liked to remind him.

The place was huge; the living room alone was bigger than the entirety of Jongdae’s previous apartment. When he’d first seen it, he had been speechless. It only made the idea that Minseok was interested in him all the more surreal. When he’d moved in, he was excited; no more eating on his bed and studying next to the stove. Now though, he kind of missed the coziness of his single room flat.

He spent his whole day on the couch, watching whatever was even remotely interesting on TV. Minseok called sometime around his second drama to ask if everything was alright, and then told him he’d come home around dinner time. Jongdae didn’t know if he should feel relieved to be away from Minseok for almost the entire day, or sadden at the idea of being alone in the apartment all by himself. He felt like a house pet.

He contemplated going and snooping around some unknown places in the large apartment, but changed his mind. He’d rather not find something he wasn’t supposed to see. Perhaps he could go out. After all, Minseok wouldn’t know if he’d left, right?

He frowned, and threw a pillow towards the ceiling, only to catch it when it fell back towards his face. Of course Minseok would know. There was no way he’d leave Jongdae all alone at home without having someone watching the door. While the older didn’t seem like the paranoid type, there was no way he’d made it so far in his line of work without being careful, and Jongdae was an obvious liability. Of course he had to be watched.

He didn’t know how he felt about that. He never imagined he’d end up married to a crime boss. Even now, after almost a month of knowing the truth, it still felt unreal. It was like Minseok was playing a cruel joke on him, and he was still waiting for the punch line to come.

He plopped on his belly, and nuzzled his face into the couch. At least the furniture was nice. Even the chairs in Minseok’s house were so comfortable he could fall asleep on any of them. It was one of the nicer aspects of being married.

His phone rang, and Jongdae couldn’t have been more grateful. He picked it up from the coffee table to see it was his friend calling, Wendy. He coughed a few times to make his voice a little rougher, and made sure to lower it before he picked up.

“Hello?” he smiled proudly when his voice came out as harsh as he’s hoped.

 _“Hey, Jongdae, how are you? Are you feeling better?”_ Wendy’s sounded worried, and Jongdae felt a little guilty for lying to her that morning.

“A little. I still can’t feel my throat, and my eyes hurt like hell, but other than that, I’m just peachy,” he explained, smiling at Wendy’s soft giggled from the other side of the call. “Sorry I told you so late I wouldn’t be coming today.”

He’d only remembered that morning that he was on house arrest, so he texted Wendy to say he was _sick._ It was a good enough excuse, and Wendy was nice enough not to ask too many questions.

_“It’s fine, I’m sure that was the last thing on your mind. Your boyfriend’s with you right?”_

“Yeah. Well, he left for some work, but he’ll be back soon.”

His _boyfriend_ was how Wendy knew Minseok as. When they first started dating, he was so excited that he just had to tell his closest (and only) friend about it. Of course, he left some details out, like Minseok’s _actual_ occupation, and the little fact that they were married. Still, Wendy had been more supportive of him dating an older man than most people would probably be, and for that alone he was thankful.

_“Are you alright with being alone? I can totally come over if you need me to-“_

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m fine. He’ll be back soon enough, and if something comes up, I can always call him.” He also wasn’t sure if Minseok would appreciate a stranger coming into his house when he wasn’t around, and that was a conversation he wasn’t dying to have with him anytime soon.

_“Alright, if you’re sure then.”_

“Yeah, I’m definitely sure. Now tell me, how was your day?”

He listened as Wendy told him about the classes he missed, what so and so said, making sure to cough from time to time to keep up his act. It was nice to talk to his friend, even if it was over the phone.

_“By the way, Mr. Do asked about you.”_

Jongdae groaned and buried his face into the couch cushions. “He asked about the musical again, didn’t he?”

_“You got it. Have you thought about it?”_

He sighed. “I don’t know, Wendy.” Truth be told, he would like to take part in the musical, but the thought of singing and dancing in front of who knows how many people made his chest ache with nerves. He was not the best at dancing; he looked silly and was clumsy. There was no way he’d be able to lift up Wendy during one of their numbers together, while also singing.

He _could_ take part in it, only if his role was limited to playing piano, and singing a line here and there. Also, he didn’t even want to think of having to talk about this with Minseok. He wasn’t sure how the older would react to it, and now the last thing Jongdae wanted was to anger him. He was already on thin ice as it was.

_“I think you’d be amazing, Jongdae! You know Mr. Do wouldn’t just ask you to be part of it if he didn’t believe in your talent!”_

“Yeah, well, it’s not like people are stepping over themselves to be part of the damned thing anyway.” He responded, making sure to cough a few more times afterwards.

_“That’s what you think, but I heard that some students in the theatre department are dying to be part of this, but Mr. Do refuses to cast any of them as the lead! And that’s because he wants you!”_

Well now he felt guilty. “Are you sure about that?”

_“Of course! You don’t think I’d lie to you, do you? What would take you to be part of it?”_

He thought for a while. “I don’t know. I think if I’m not up front, I’d be alright.”

Wendy groaned from the other side of the call, and Jongdae chuckled at her. Then coughed again. _“Jongdae, you’re supposed to be_ the lead _! How would you not be up front?”_

“Well, I would do it if I wasn’t the lead, is what I’m saying.”

Wendy hummed through the phone, then exclaimed in happiness. _“Oh, I have an idea! What if you’re singing all the lines for the lead, but someone else is acting on stage and lip syncing the lines?”_

Jongdae frowned. “That sounds too complicated, there’s no way Mr. Do would ever agree to that.”

_“Ha, you’re underestimating how much he wants you as the lead, then. Trust me, he’d be all up for it!”_

“If you say so…” he trailed off, playing with the idea in his head.

_“I’ll tell him tomorrow, then!”_

Jongdae bolted right up from the couch. “Wait, Wendy, I don’t know if-“

_“What? You said you’d do it if you weren’t the lead!”_

“I said I’d _consider_ it, which I haven’t! Let me at least think about it before you bring it up to him!” he whined, trying not to curse Wendy in his head. He had to think how he’d approach all of this to Minseok. He already had trouble talking to him these days without either getting too angry, or too frightened.

 _“Fine, fine. But tell me when you’ve thought of it, I’m sure we could work something up.”_ He hummed in agreement. _“So, tell me about your day! How is it staying home with your boyfriend all day, huh? Having fun?”_ he smiled awkwardly at Wendy’s suggestive tone.

“Not exactly. We don’t… talk much these days.” He said softly, feeling particularly pained now that he said it out loud.

 _“Are you guys fighting or something?”_ Wendy asked worriedly. Jongdae could faintly hear cars passing by her. He guessed she was on her way home.

“Not really fighting, I guess. It’s just- I…” he took in a deep breath, coughed once more to keep up his act, and then continued. “I don’t know, it’s…“ he trailed off again.

_“You’re upset with him? Or is he upset with you?”_

“He’s not upset with me, no. He’s trying to talk to me and make things right, but I can’t just-“ he stopped himself before he said something he shouldn’t.

_“So you’re upset with him, then?”_

Bless Wendy for her kind and helpful nature. “Yes,” he whispered, his heart heavy. He felt slightly guilty for the way he’s been treating Minseok, but each time he wanted to talk to him and make things right again, he just couldn’t. Because things _couldn’t_ be right again. Because Minseok had _lied._

_“You don’t have to tell me anything, Jongdae. I want to help you, really, but I won’t press.”_

“Thank you, Wendy.” He said genuinely.

 _“You’re very welcome. I know you’d do the same.”_ He could hear her smile in her voice.

“I guess I kinda wanna talk about it. If you’re willing to listen?”

_“Sure thing. Go ahead.”_

He sighed, and thought of the right words to say. “Well, I guess the short version is that he lied to me about... something, and that kinda… changed everything. God, that sounds so dumb now that I say it out loud.”

 _“No, no! It’s good, it doesn’t sound stupid. Go on.”_ Wendy encouraged him.

“That’s it, basically. Things haven’t really been the same since then.”

There was silence coming from the other side of the line for a while, before Wendy talked again. _“And has he apologized for that? For lying to you?”_

“Yeah, he has. Like, a hundred times, but… I don’t know, I-I…” Jongdae took in a deep breath. “I don’t know, I just… I haven’t been able to forgive him yet…”

Wendy hummed sympathetically. _“Do you think you’ll be able to forgive him eventually?”_

Jongdae thought about it. Probably, he didn’t know. How much time should it pass before he could safely say he’s forgiven Minseok? More than a month? A year? More importantly, how much until Minseok was finally tired of trying to appease him, and just snapped? That was a question Jongdae wasn’t dying to find the answer to.

“I guess, I don’t know. I have to, right? I mean… what else can I do?” he asked, waiting impatiently for Wendy to give her opinion. It felt good to talk about it, kind of.

 _“Well, I mean, you could break up with him, if you feel you can no longer trust him.”_ came her way too proper answer.

Jongdae snorted at her suggestion, and quickly covered it with a few coughs. “Can’t really do that,” he muttered.

_“Why not?”_

Because he couldn’t. Because they were married. Because, even the little amount of information he knew about Minseok’s real occupation was too much for him to simply walk away. Because his husband’s associates that always called at weird hours of the nights would not let him go away. Because he owed too much to Minseok. And because he knew the other wouldn’t let him go.

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Cause he pays for my college. I can’t just break up with him now after he’s paid for my entire year. Like, _yeah, thanks for paying for my education, but sorry, Imma have to break up withyou. Please keep paying for me, by the way._ You don’t think he’d be just a little bit upset?”

_“Yeah, now that you say it, that would be rather mean of you.”_

“Exactly. Also, where would I stay? My previous apartment is not the most glamorous, and I’m not really dying to get back there.” He explained, shuddering at the thought of that ragged mattress he used to sleep on. Even Minseok’s floors were more comfortable.

_“So breaking up with him is out of the question, then. I guess the two of you will have to talk it out, then,”_

“I knooow, but I caaaan’t do thaaaat,” Jongdae whined into the phone, ignoring Wendy’s disappointed sigh.

_“Jongdae, come on. You have to talk to him eventually. And he’s older, he’ll see reason.”_

Jongdae chewed on his lower lip nervously, kicking his legs back and forth on the couch. He was terrified of having any sort of serious talk with Minseok. One wrong word, and who knows what could happen. He’d never seen Minseok lose his calm in the few months they’d known each other, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it would happen soon. Jongdae was probably not how he would have liked his husband to be.

“I don’t know, Wendy, I… when I think of just sitting down and talking things through with him, I just- I get so-“

_“Scared?”_

He let out a breath he was holding. He was so thankful Wendy was understanding and knew him so well.

“Yes. I’m very scared.” He admitted, shame curling up in his stomach. He felt pathetic, asking his friend for help with something like this. If only he hadn’t been a love struck idiot, and thought with his head instead of his heart. If only he hadn’t been so impossibly in love that nothing could break his perfect dream with the perfect man. If only he’d thought twice before agreeing to marry someone he knew for only two months prior.

_“Why, Jongdae? You have nothing to be afraid of.”_

He huffed. “Of course I have! He could… he could get angry with me, could tell me all the things I already know, and I know he feels but doesn’t say so he won’t upset me, and I’m so stupid I don’t want to face the truth! I’ve been horrible to him while living off _his_ money, in _his_ house, and ignoring him and treating him like shit! And he’s been nothing but nice to me and I- god, I’m horrible.”

Guilt was starting to eat away at him, now that he said it. The thought of Minseok, whom he’s never seen be anything other than nice and kind to him, suddenly turning into someone that would reproach him for his behavior was unfathomable. Not to mention that Minseok was a goddamn _crime boss._ How much of his personality was true, and how much was only a façade he used to lure Jongdae in so he wouldn’t spend the rest of his days alone?

If that was Minseok’s plan, he must be really disappointed now. He probably wanted a nice trophy husband, someone he could take to extravagant crime lord parties as eye candy, to show off to his fellow crime lord friends. Rich people probably did that, had some sort of ‘whose toy is the prettiest’ contest, where they bragged about how many designer clothes and jewelry they piled up on their respective pets.

Or maybe he really wanted a house pet. Someone to come home to and cuddle, and probably fuck after a long day of doing crime boss business. Someone that wouldn’t talk back to him, or deny him whatever he asked, and in return would get whatever stupidly expensive gifts they wanted, as a reward for their good behavior.

If that was what Minseok wanted, Jongdae was probably a very big disappointment to him. And that fact upset him endlessly.

 _“You’re not horrible, Jongdae!”_ Wendy’s voice pulled him out of his mild despair moment, and he sniffed a few times to will the tears away. He could play if off as being sick, after all. _“You said he lied to you, right? You have legitimate reasons to be angry with him!”_

Jongdae didn’t say anything after that. He didn’t want to contradict Wendy. He also wanted to believe she was right.

_“You shouldn’t feel guilty, Jongdae. You’re justified in your behavior.”_

He was quiet, until he muttered a soft “If you say so…”

Wendy was quick to assure him. _“I do. If this lie was so big and serious that it changed almost everything about your relationship, I think it’s okay for you to be angry with him.”_

“You should have studying law instead, Wendy. You’re good at arguing.” He said smiling.

 _“You’re making it very easy though, so it’s not so much about my skill.”_ Jongdae laughed, and was pleased to hear her chuckle as well, before she took on a more serious tone again. _“But you still need to talk to him, Jongdae. No matter what, you guys can’t go on like this.”_

He sighed, and didn’t argue any further. He knew she was right. He had to come to terms with Minseok and what his new life entailed now. He being stubborn was not going to change anything; it would probably make things worse, if it hadn’t already.

 _“Do you think he’s cheating on you?”_ Wendy asked him.

Jongdae considered it. Probably not. Minseok still tried to talk and be nice to him despite his hostile behavior, and went through the whole trouble of dating Jongdae and marrying him. It seemed unlike Minseok to inconvenience himself so much to get with Jongdae, only to cheat on him in the end.

And there were probably no shortage on pretty women and men that would kill to be in his place. After all, Minseok was young (or at least younger than what Jongdae assumed most crime bosses were), handsome, powerful, and had plenty cash to spare. Most would be stupid not to desire him.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, he probably wouldn’t bother with me if he had someone else, right?”

 _“Right.”_ Wendy was quick to reassure him before Jongdae started doubting himself again. _“Not to mention you’re quite the catch. Really, he’d be stupid to let you go.”_ She said lively, and Jongdae couldn’t fight off the bashful smile on his face.

“You have quite a way with words. I really think you should consider law as your second option, if music doesn’t work out.”

_“Just so you know, most of the girls in our year are head over heels for you. They were really disappointed when I told them you’re seeing someone.”_

“You don’t need to make things up to make me feel better, Wendy-“

 _“Please tell me we’re not having this conversation now. I haven’t had nearly enough to drink for it.”_ Jongdae let out a laugh, feeling much lighter now than he did before she’d called. _“I swear, if I ever meet your boyfriend, I’ll tell him to compliment you enough times so it gets stuck in your head that you’re amazing. If I’m this pissed after a few seconds, I don’t know how he’s doing.”_

“He’s always calm, actually. I’ve yet to see him angry.” And hopefully, that day will never come. He dreaded having to meet a mad Minseok.

_“I guess that explains it.”_

Jongdae smiled genuinely, looking at the ceiling again. “Thank you so much, Wendy. You really made me feel better.”

_“I’m glad, then! I hope you two will figure things out, truly. You were so happy with him, and I wanna see you like that again.”_

“Yeah, I hope so too. I’ll try to talk to him when he comes back home.” As nervous as it made him feel, postponing the inevitable could not be good. It was either him taking the initiative and try to make peace, or wait until Minseok snaps. And one of those options sounded infinitely better than the other.

_“Good luck, then!”_

“Thank you. I’ll text you tomorrow if I’ll feel better. Hopefully, I won’t miss any more classes.”

 _“Don’t sweat it; I’ll help you catch up. Get better, alright? Eat some soup and drink lots of liquids!”_ Wendy said excitedly, and Jongdae let a grin spread over his features.

“Sure thing. Bye, Wendy, I’ll talk to you later. And thank again.”

_“You’re very welcome. Bye-bye!”_

After she’d hung up, the house once again felt too big and too empty for only one person. He turned to the TV, mindlessly watching whatever was on.

He repeated the whole conversation he had with Wendy in his head. Jongdae decided he’d talk to Minseok when he came back. He’d try to be nicer to him, and maybe he’ll even come to forgive him soon enough.

 

*

 

Yifan walked hurriedly along the hospital halls, going towards the room Tao said Junmyeon was in. The hospital was full of people; some nurses here and there tried to ask him where he was going, who he was looking for. However, he had no time to answer any of them. There was only one thing on his mind at that moment.

When he reached salon no. 100, he was pleased to see two of his men standing outside by the door. They bowed to him as soon as they spotted him, and were it any other time, he would have greeted them back. He barely spared them a glare now.

He opened the door softly, and breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Junmyeon lying on the bed, eyes closed and breathing deeply, a small blanket draped over him. Tao loomed by the side of his bed, slender and unmoving like an unlit candle.

He looked away from Junmyeon’s sleeping figure when he saw Yifan enter, and bowed his head slightly. “Duizhang,”

“How is he?” he asked, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. He felt like he could finally breathe, after having the biggest scare of his life. He looked at his sleeping spouse’s face. Even like this, ill and passed out on the bed, his Junmyeon was just as beautiful as always.

A pang of guilt shot through him at that thought. He was most likely at fault for his husband’s current state.

“They said he’s alright. They didn’t want to give me any details, since I’m not immediate family, but I… persuaded them.” Tao explained smoothly, his voice soft in the quiet room.

Yifan took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Jun was safe. He was healthy and safe.

“What did they say?”

“They said he fainted due to stress, and exhaustion. They said he’d be fine when he wakes up. No major complications.”

Stress and exhaustion. That was not what he would have liked to hear, but he was glad it wasn’t anything worse. The room was quiet after that, and Yifan only now realized how hard his heart was beating. He reached for Junmyeon’s hand from underneath the blanket, and held it tightly between both of his. Junmyeon’s hand was burning hot, while his were cold from the November air.

Yifan slouched forward to rest his forehead on his hands clasping Junmyeon’s smaller one. Zitao was quiet, eyes focused on the door. He was glad Tao knew when to talk, and when to keep his silence.

He must have looked rather silly, his large frame folded forward. Like a powerless fool by his husband’s side, incapable of doing anything other than waiting.

Looking at Junmyeon’s sleeping face, he tried to think if he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary with the other. Yesterday evening they had dinner as usual, and Junmyeon was as sweet as always, albeit he looked a little tired and upset. Still, he’d attributed that to having a hard day at work. Apparently, there was something he’d missed.

Stroking lightly along Junmyeon’s fingers, he wondered what was troubling his husband so. Was his ailment brought on by something, or did it just happen to take Junmyeon down at that time? Clasping his hand tighter, he felt his throat closing up at the thought of the cause for his beloved sickness. He pushed down the guilt.

“Was he alone when he fainted?” he asked Tao.

The younger shook his head. “He was with one of the other teachers. Some Mr. Choi,”

Yifan nodded. Choi Minho, one of Junmyeon’s few friends since college. It seemed plausible that the two of them were talking about a matter he wanted to keep a relative secret from his spouse. He let out a tired sigh, already dreading the conversation he knew was to come.

Maybe he’d be lucky, and Junmyeon would be too tired for the imminent talk when they got home. He didn’t manage to suppress the guilt he felt now. He shouldn’t wish for his husband to feel bad just so Yifan wouldn’t face the consequences of what he knew was an impulsive decision.

Both he and Tao stayed in silence, watching over the sleeping body between them. Neither knew how much time has passed, and Yifan didn’t want to find out. Each time Zitao checked his watch, he had to fight the urge to do the same. It would only make him worry more.

When he was starting to lose hope in Tao’s words that Junmyeon would be alright, and was ready to call the doctors, the fingers he was clasping twitched lightly in his grasp. He watched Junmyeon’s face with care, seeing how his eyes were darting wildly beneath his eyelids.

“Junmyeon,” he whispered softly in the quiet room. Tao’s attention snapped to them in a second.

Yifan watched his spouse slowly coming back to his senses. He held his breath, as if one small move from him would hinder the other. When Junmyeon opened his eyes, Yifan felt as if he could cry of happiness. His love was looking at him with unfocused, bloodshot eyes.

“Hyung!” Tao exclaimed happily, moving to grab Junmyeon’s other hand between his own. Yifan let him. He knew his younger charge was fond of his husband, and saw Junmyeon as some sort of pseudo parent. Were it anyone else, he would have put a stop to it before such feelings would blossom; but in this case, it only ensured Tao’s loyalty to him and Junmyeon. Tao knew his place. Also, Junmyeon was fond of his as well.

They both helped him sit up, Yifan placing the thin hospital pillow behind him, and settling Junmyeon against it carefully. Tao smiled gently to his husband, making sure he was comfortable.

“I’ll go tell them to call the doctor,” he said, hurrying out the door.

Junmyeon tried to open his mouth so say something. He looked to Yifan with large eyes.

“Water? You want water, Jun?” he was already up from his chair before the younger had even nodded.

Thankfully, Tao had anticipated this, and a bottle of water was conveniently placed on the window sill. He grabbed it and quickly moved back to his chair.

He unclasped the water bottle and helped Junmyeon drink out of it, supporting the back of his head with one hand, and holding the bottle with the other. He took the bottle away when Junmyeon started whimpering.

Tao came back shortly after, a gentle smile plastered on his lips. “Hyung, how are you feling?”

Junmyeon coughed a few times, trying to find his voice back. “I’m fine, I think. My head hurts, though,” his voice came out a little rough, but Yifan could listen to it forever nonetheless.

Zitao opened the windows to let in some fresh air. Yifan was grateful the other seemed to be more competent than him at that moment. He tried not to dwell on the fact that Junmyeon had yet to spare him even a small glance.

“Are you hungry, hyung? Do you want me to get you something to eat?” Tao asked again, and Yifan wanted to kick himself for not thinking of that.

“No, please don’t trouble yourself,”

They sat in silence for a while, Junmyeon’s hand still in Yifan’s grasp, despite their reserved interactions so far. Tao was in a much better mood, smiling brightly at Junmyeon whenever their eyes crossed paths.

The arrival of the doctor, accompanied by a nurse, was more welcomed than he would’ve expected. They both looked rather uncomfortable, perhaps because of the men sitting outside, and the serious expressions both Yifan and Zitao had adopted.

“Mr. Kim, I am doctor Jang. Pleased to meet you. How are you feeling now?” the doctor asked, and all eyes turned to Junmyeon. He seemed awkward with so much attention on him. Yifan squeezed his hand lightly, hoping it would comfort him, if only a little.

“I’m feeling alright.”

“Do you know what happened, sir?”

Yifan watched the other’s face deliberately for any signs of distress. Sadly for him, Junmyeon was a good actor.

“I fainted. Right?” his voice, which has regained its previous melodiousness, also gave no indications of what he was thinking. He was usually good at reading Jun’s emotions, but perhaps the stress and worry was making him a little slow today.

“That is right, sir. Do you perhaps know the cause of that?” the doctor asked politely, while the nurse was looking at Tao with starry eyes. Yifan was more than a little pissed. She was supposed to be there to attend to Junmyeon, not to try to flirt with his bodyguard.

“Stress, I think. Exam period is coming. I worry some of my students might not pass.” He sneaked a glance at Yifan at the end. His breath caught in his throat. After so many years of being together, he and Junmyeon were masters at the art of silent talking. His husband definitely suspected he’d done something.

“You think that’s the only reason, sir?”

“What else could there be?” Junmyeon asked back, his fingers twitching in Yifan’s grasp once more.

“Well, there _could_ be a number of reasons for your sudden fainting, Mr. Kim. Do you suffer from a weak immune system? Are you having troubles with your diet, or your levels of calcium, or magnesium? It could also be attributed to having an irregular sleeping schedule-“

“I have that,” Junmyeon interjected, “A weak sleeping schedule. I have some troubles sleeping from time to time. My husband can confirm.” Junmyeon said looking at him, sending him a ‘you better take my side’ look.

“Oh, you’re Mr. Kim’s husband?” the doctor asked politely. Yifan nodded.

“Yes. And yes, he does have some difficulty sleeping.” That wasn’t actually true, not as far as he knew. Junmyeon slept fine most nights. Though he did notice him looking a little more tired than usual last night and this morning.

“Well, we could recommend you some supplements, and some vitamins as well. But we won’t know anything for sure unless you do some tests, sir. That would help us detect the cause of the problem-“

“No. No testing. I am alright,” Junmyeon argued softly. Yifan frowned at him.

“Jun, please consider this. It would do us no harm to know-“

“No, Yifan. I don’t want to take any tests, I am alright.” He insisted, staring straight into Yifan’s eyes, not leaving any room for further arguments.

Yifan sighed, and looked at the doctor watching their exchange passively. He’d probably seen much worse. “No tests, then. If he changes his mind, we’ll let you know.” The doctor nodded with a tight smile.

“Alright then, sir. At least tell me, have you experienced similar loses of consciousness before now?”

“No.”

“Do you ever feel fatigued, or do you find yourself being tired frequently?”

“Yes.” Junmyeon answered. “But I’m a teacher, isn’t that to be expected?” he continued with a charming smile, successfully lightening up the previously tense atmosphere.

“I suggest you take some days off work, sir. Try to rest as much as possible.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The doctor looked at them both, his clipboard in front of him. “Would you like me to suggest you some supplements and vitamins, at least?”

“Yes,” Yifan replied before Junmyeon could deny the doctor. “That would be very much appreciated.” He’d run the suggestions by Yixing anyway, but it did no harm to have an unbiased opinion from a specialist.

“So, is everything alright, then? Can I leave?” Junmyeon asked the doctor, who only nodded and passed Yifan the piece of paper with the suggested medication for his husband.

“If you are feeling better, absolutely. There is, however, the mater of payment-“

“You can discuss that with my associate here. Thank you for your help.” He said with a stern tone, dismissing everyone out of the room.

Left alone with Junmyeon, the awkward tension came back. His husband swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet dangling. Yifan quickly spotted Junmyeon’s shoes next to the bed, and bent down to grab them.

He kneeled in front of Junmyeon and put on his shoes one by one. After that, he got Junmyeon’s coat from the foot of the bed.

He looked worriedly at his husband. “Can you walk, Jun? Or do you want someone to carry you? I think we could get a wheelchair if you want.”

Junmyeon shook his head before he even finished speaking. “It’s fine, I can walk.”

Yifan let him be, but still insisted on helping him, holding him by the elbow firmly enough so he won’t fall, but gently enough as to not hurt him.

Tao was waiting for them outside the door. “Hyung, do you need any help?” he asked quickly, to which the older replied smiling,

“No Tao, thank you.”

They walked towards the parking lot slowly, not wanting to rush Junmyeon. The two men that took guard by the saloon door were walking behind them, at a comfortable enough distance. Most of his men knew not to get overly close to Junmyeon unless necessarily. They made sure to stay at a small enough distance, from which he was still visible and they could get to him quickly, but not overly near so he would be uncomfortable.

When they reached Yifan’s car, he helped Junmyeon carefully onto the back seat, closing the door after him. He told the two to get the car Tao used for driving Junmyeon to school every day.

He turned to his most trusted charge. “Drive a bit slower, so he doesn’t get sick. He probably didn’t eat much.”

The younger nodded without question. “Of course, Duizhang.”

The ride to their apartment was anything other than comfortable. Junmyeon was deadly silent, not even trying to talk to Tao, keeping his eyes were fixated on his lap. Yifan tried to make it less awkward, to hold Jun’s hand, or stroke his back lightly. While his husband didn’t reject his touches, he didn’t make any moves to show he appreciated them either.

He rehearsed his apologies a few thousand times before they got home. He tried to think of all the reactions Junmyeon might have, and tried to be prepared for whichever outcome. Judging by the other’s earlier behavior, as well as his continued silence and reserved actions now, he wasn’t sure what would come.

They reached home way too early for Yifan’s liking, however. He helped Junmyeon out of the car, but let Tao have the satisfaction of aiding his favorite hyung up the stairs. The younger even managed to pull a smile out of Junmyeon. Yifan wasn’t too happy about that, but seeing his beloved smile was consolation enough.

As before, when the two of they were left alone, there was an undeniable tension in the room. Junmyeon was good at the silent treatment, and while Yifan was not the most talkative person around, he liked listening to his husband speaking. Being a one man audience to his spouse’s monologues was not something he’d ever get tired of. Complete, uncomfortable silence was not something he was used to.

“Jun, are you hungry? I could-“

“No.” Junmyeon cut him off, not even bothering to look at him.

“Alright. Do you perhaps want to lie down? You must still be tired-“

“I want to _talk,_ Yifan.” He replied in a cold tone. Yifan gulped around the tightness in his throat.

“What is it you want to talk about?” he asked, only to be on the receiving end of one more of Jun’s glares.

“You know what I want to talk about. Stop pretending you have no idea.” He took of his coat, throwing it carelessly over the back of the couch. Afterwards he took of his shoes, and tossed them across the living room. Yifan flinched when he heard them hit the wall. This must have been Junmyeon’s attempt at being passive aggressive, a way of telling him he couldn’t care less about the things he’s bought him.

Yifan was quiet, his fears from earlier becoming reality now. Still, he tried his best to not let any of it show on his face. He had a grade A poker face, but he always found it difficult to keep up that act around the other.

His prolonged silence must have only angered the other more. “You’re seriously gonna pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about? Or did you fuck up so much that you don’t know _why_ exactly I’m angry?” Yifan had to fight off the shudder that came with Junmyeon’s words. His husband hardly ever cussed. This was worse than Yifan believed at first.

He decided that not saying anything would only make matters worse. “I might have an idea for… why you’re upset,” he managed to say. _Upset_ was an understatement for Junmyeon in that moment.

The younger of the two crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Yifan with more harshness and displeasure than he could ever remember. “And what is that? I want to hear you say it.”

Yifan dropped his head in shame. He could still feel the intensity of Junmyeon’s glower without having to see it. He felt like a dog being scolded by its owner, only the gravity of the situation was much larger. As were Yifan’s actions.

“It’s because one of your students… disappeared.”

It sounded strange to his own ears to hear himself admit to it. Even now as he said it, he felt no remorse.

Junmyeon was quiet for a few seconds, which passes as slowly as years for Yifan.

“Disappeared? I guess that’s a nice way of saying he was killed. By you.” His tone was sharp, and it successfully cut through Yifan’s heart. He wouldn’t have minded an accusation like that coming from anyone else, but when it was from Junmyeon, it felt like a dagger slashing through him.

“I didn’t kill him.” he said pointedly. He dialed down the intensity when Junmyeon’s frown only deepened. “I did not.”

“You might have not, but it doesn’t mean the boy is still alive. You seriously expect me to think he’s all safe? Do you really find me that stupid?”

“Of course not, Jun-“ he tried, only to be interrupted by the other.

“No, but you thought I wouldn’t find out. Is that why you didn’t think of telling me yourself? At least before you would have owned up to something like this.”

He didn’t say anything in return.

“Were you planning on telling me at all?” Junmyeon asked, much softly this time. Yifan ignored the disappointment in his voice.

“Not unless it came to… something like this,” he replied, and cringed at his response as soon as he said it. At least he was being honest.

The room was quiet for a few moments again. Junmyeon let out a sigh. He ran his hands through his hair and massaged his temples afterwards, walking from spot to spot. He was stressed.

“Why would you do this again?” he asked without looking at him. “Have I not made it clear enough to you that I…” he trailed off, and Yifan half wished he’d continued. He wanted to know what Junmyeon had to say. He deserved as much chastising as the other would give.

When Junmyeon looked at him, his eyes were filled with sorrow. Staring into them only pressed harder on Yifan’s heart, but he figured he deserved all the pain he got for what he did to his husband.

“Why did you do this again, Yifan?” his voice was becoming breathier, while his eyes were getting glassier by the second. “This is the third time,”

It was the fourth, actually, but Junmyeon didn’t know about the third one. A substitute teacher who took a liking to him. It wasn’t hard to get rid of her, either. She had a reputation of sleeping with students; one coy look from Sehun, and she had agreed in a heartbeat to meet him after hours. She had no immediate family that would miss her, and there was always demand for pretty ladies in his side of business. Being a substitute, her leaving earlier was not that suspicious.

She had been an easy one out. Not like that Nakamoto kid Junmyeon was reprimanding him for now.

“Are you even a little bit sorry?” his husband asked, his voice now strained.

“Of course I am,” he answered back. He was sorry, for not being more careful. He was very sorry for upsetting Junmyeon so greatly that he fainted, and was now on the verge of tears. He was not sorry for getting rid of that kid.

“Are you sorry for what you did to him, or that I found out?”

There it was, the dreaded question. He considered lying, but Jun would catch on in a second. The truth seemed more appropriate then, no matter how harsh it was.

“I am sorry I upset you,” he said without a doubt. And that was when the tears started falling.

Junmyeon’s eyes were now drenched in tears, looking at Yifan with so much disappointment and sorrow, he almost regretted telling the truth. He walked towards his spouse, ready to comfort him. Junmyeon shook his head and walked backwards, his hands in front of him.

“No, don’t. I don’t- I don’t want to talk to you now. I don’t want to see you,” he muttered through the tears, fighting to keep his sobs in.

Yifan ignored his words, even though they ate at him, and continued to approach him. When they were face to face, he put an arm around Junmyeon’s hunched shoulders, and pulled him into a gentle hug. The other started sobbing as soon as his forehead rested against Yifan’s chest.

His cries were heart wrenching, and only managed to ensure that guilt would be one of Yifan’s default feelings from now on. Nothing was worse than seeing his own husband cry. Being the cause of those tears was more painful than anything.

“Is he dead?” Junmyeon asked between sobs. “Please tell me, is he dead? Please don’t lie,”

“He’s not dead, I promise,” he replied, stroking the other’s hair and back respectively, hoping to calm him down.

In all truth, he had no idea if the boy was dead or not, but he would’ve said anything to make Junmyeon less upset. He didn’t bother trying to find out whatever happened to those he made disappear.

“Where is he, Yifan? Tell me,”

“He’s back home, love. He’s back in Japan, with his family.”

The boy was in China, actually. His family would remain in the dark for a few more months, before they would suddenly receive a bouquet of chrysanthemums as condolences for their son’s untimely death in an accident. Phone numbers and emails have been already erased from any documents that might happen to fall into Junmyeon’s hands, and any person that could spoil the secret had already been paid off, if they weren’t part of the organization to begin with.

There were some lies better suited to remain in the dark, and he would make sure Junmyeon would never know those truths.

The younger of the two raised his head, regarding Yifan with red, saddened eyes. “This is the last time, Yifan. Promise me this is the last time you do something like this.”

“I promise, love. Never again, I’ll never do it again.” He didn’t know if he’d keep that promise, but he was willing to at least try. “Please forgive me, Jun. Please try to find it within yourself to forgive me again.” He begged, ready to fall on his knees if only for the other to say the words. He knew he was taking advantage of Junmyeon’s kindness, but he’d come to terms ages ago with the fact that he wasn’t what most would call a good person.

To his disappointment, Junmyeon shook his head.

“I don’t think I can forgive you this time, Yifan. At least not yet.”

“Junmyeon-“

“I forgave you twice before, and both times you promised not to do it again. You’ve hurt people that were innocent, that had nothing to do with your business. You hurt children, Yifan. No matter how many times you tell me they’re all safe and fine, I still can’t find my peace of mind. I can’t sleep knowing innocent people have been hurt because of me.”

Yifan willed himself not to let his own tears fall at his husband’s words. He was used to being hurt. He had been shot and stabbed, had been on the receiving end of angry words and glares many times before, but none of those compared to seeing the distress he had caused to his most loved one.

Guilt was settling deeply in his bones and making home in his heart. He had hurt the one he wished to protect the most, and all because he was drunk on jealousy.

Junmyeon smiled sadly at him, and despite it all, snuggled closer to him. “But I know I cannot leave you. We share too much for me to just walk away now.” His eyes turned stern for a second. “I think I will be able to forgive you, eventually. But you have to work for it, Yifan. Don’t just think everything is going to be the same from now on.”

He nodded, his words failing him now. He’d never been the best at talking. Yifan hugged his spouse again, holding him close to his chest. He did not deserve Junmyeon.

They stayed like that in silence, until Yifan could feel his shirt dampening with fresh tears. Junmyeon was crying again.

“That was always your biggest flaw. You always got jealous too quickly, and over nothing,” he said with a chuckle that turned into a sob right after.

Yifan wordlessly hugged him tighter. If Junmyeon thought that was his biggest flaw, then he definitely did not deserve him. Junmyeon thought too highly of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and thank you for reading! First off, I'm really sorry I updated the story so late. I don't really have an excuse other than college killing me, and enjoying the holidays with my parents. I hope the longer chapter somehow made up for the wait.
> 
> Happy birthday to our darling maknae Sehun!! And happy late birthday to Minseok!! I hope they both spent it with their close ones, and had a great time. Also, omg Exo has celebrated 6 years!! As someone that has been with them since pre-debut, I can't believe so much time has passed! They accomplished so much in such a short period, it's crazy. I hope they are as proud of themselves as we Exo-l's are!
> 
> In other news, CBX's new album dropped. I loved the MV to death, and Blooming Day and Vroom Vroom are straight bops. But I mean, it's Exo, what else were we expecting?
> 
> Next chapter, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol have some pov's of their own. It's been a while since we saw Kyungsoo, hope you guys missed him. I'll try to get it finished as soon as possible!! ^^


	9. Chapter 9

Kyungsoo has had a horrible day. From failing again to persuade Jongdae to join the musical cast (since said student didn’t even come to class that day), to getting annoyed with a few first-years that wouldn’t listen to him, and getting made fun of by Theatre Department professor Kim Kibum for not having a male lead for the musical, Kyungsoo’s day has been shit.

To make matters worse, Kyungsoo wouldn’t even be able to enjoy a nice, quiet evening with his boyfriend, since Chanyeol was busy with drug lord business. The highlight of his day was texting Chanyeol after every lecture to complain, and the thought that they’d cuddle in bed when he came home. To not be able to fulfill that tiny fantasy of his was really turning him into a ball of anger and frustration.

All he wanted now was a drink. He didn’t particularly care for drinking, he liked alcohol much better when he tasted it on Chanyeol’s tongue than his own, but he did find it quite relaxing from time to time. Now was one of those times.

He arrived at Chanyeol’s bar, the only half-legitimate business he owned, with his ever present shadowy stalker still at his back. Kyungsoo ignored him and got inside quickly, more than certain that his appointed follower wouldn’t come in after him.

A few eyes turned to him when he got inside, and then swiftly looked away. He walked towards the bar, and sat down on one of the farthest stools, close to a few empty tables. The bartender, Kun, came to him with a smile.

“Alone tonight, Mr. Do?”

Kyungsoo gave a small, forced smile of his own, and nodded. “Yes. Chanyeol was busy.”

“Then I’ll try to keep you company as much as I can, sir,” the young bartender said, but Kyungsoo waved him off. He’d much rather soak in his misery by himself, and not have to act nice towards someone.

“That’s quite alright. You do your job, I don’t mind being alone.”

The bartender nodded, and asked what he’d like to drink. Kyungsoo asked for a simple beer, thinking he’d go up in stronger alcohol as the night went by. Kun came back with his drink, settling it in front of him with care and a melodious ‘here you go, sir’. Most of Chanyeol’s men called him ‘sir’, even if it made him feel old. Most of them were careful and nervous around him. Chanyeol said it was because of his inexpressive face and big, dark eyes.

Kyungsoo didn’t mind it. If it made his boyfriend’s men be wary of him, then so be it. It made them think twice before they dared harbor thoughts of going against Chanyeol’s word. He only wished his own students were as scared of him.

He sipped his beer, listening to the clutter of voices in the bar. It wasn’t the wisest of him to leave his guard down, but Kyungsoo knew there was no place for him safer than Chanyeol’s bar, where there were more than enough people to protect their boss’ lover. The two of them used to come here many times, sitting by the bar, drinking and laughing, before leaving close to the morning. It was indeed strange to be there alone for once.

Time went by slowly, and Kyungsoo found himself weirdly immersed in the unintelligible mass of noise in the bar. He could hear the cue stick hitting the billiard balls, the sounds of chips being passed from hand to hand, the cards being thrown on the poker table. Drinks being poured into glasses, people chatting happily, the faint music coming from the TV. It did help him relax slightly.

Kyungsoo was glad for the solitude. He was much more content sitting by himself at the end of the bar, by the empty tables next to the toilet. It was the quietness in the sea of noises, and he had no intention of moving from there.

He took out his phone, only to be greeted by 5 texts from Chanyeol.

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: soo-yah, did you arrive yet??? How are you???_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: kyungsoo??_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: kyungsoooo!!!!_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: text me soon, yeah??_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: ( ˘ ³˘)_ _♥_

He smiled softly at his phone, before checking to make sure none of Chanyeol’s men saw him. That would ruin his reputation quite a bit.

_Kyungsoo: Sorry, I had my phone on silent_

_Kyungsoo: I just arrived_

_♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: omg thank god!! You almost scared me_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: are you lonely? You can ask whoever is there to keep you company_

Kyungsoo stole a glance at Kun, pleased to see him occupied with something else.

_Kyungsoo: It’s alright, I don’t mind being by myself_

_♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you_

_Kyungsoo: Don’t worry. I know you’re busy_

He took another sip of his beer, scowling at the bitter taste. He’d probably move up the alcohol ladder sooner than he thought, even if his plan was not to get shitfaced drunk. Perhaps Chanyeol could come pick him up after he was done with whatever he had to do.

His trance was quickly destroyed, however, when he noticed two men moving towards the empty tables behind him. He really hoped they were just going to the bathroom.

But of course, the universe hated Do Kyungsoo, and the two men, both significantly taller than him (which wasn’t exactly impressive, really) sat down at one of the tables obscured in darkness. Kyungsoo sighed deeply, and called Kun for another beer. At least he could continue to text Chanyeol for now, until the other had to get back to business. Kyungsoo would’ve never thought that crime bosses worked so much.

“Want something to drink, kid?” one of the men said, the older one, Kyungsoo assumed. His voice was really deep, perhaps deeper than Chanyeol’s own.

“Umm, no thanks, hyung.” The younger of the two responded. He distantly heard footstep behind him, as the man approached the bar. Kyungsoo busied himself on his phone until Kun came with his drink. He most certainly didn’t want to make conversation, especially with a stranger.

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: Ill make it up to you, though_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: im free tomorrow, we can spend the day together!! hows that sound??_

_Kyungsoo: It sounds great. You can even help me with some essays and papers I have to grade_

_♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: well I had something else in mind when I said wed spend the day together, but sure!! I can help you if you need it, soo!!_

Kyungsoo smiled like an idiot at his phone, warmth spreading through his chest so fast he was worried he might die from something. He quickly controlled his expression though. If he looked friendly, the stranger, who was now sitting annoyingly close but still far away enough to maintain a respectful distance, might want to strike some conversation with him. And Kyungsoo was horrible at small talk.

Kun came with his beer soon enough, settling it in front of Kyungsoo with a way too chipper ‘here you go, sir!’, just like he’d done earlier. The bartender then asked the tall man what he’d like (a beer as well), and hurried to get it. Another few moments of uncomfortable silence passed as the man stood there, his large fingers drumming along the bar.

Kyungsoo sneaked a glance at him while drinking his beer. Damn, he was tall. Somewhere around Chanyeol’s height for sure. Kyungsoo turned his eyes away when the man looked back at him.

Thankfully, Kun returned with the man’s drink quickly, and Kyungsoo was once again left by himself. And he couldn’t be more grateful.

_Kyungsoo: I guess I can put off grading the essays_

_♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: I can make it worth your while, soo-yah!!_

Kyungsoo snorted and took another sip of beer to hide his smile. He felt giddy, like a teenager. He attributed that to the alcohol, and not to Chanyeol still making him flush like a schoolboy 7 years into their relationship.

“Hyung, are you sure this place is safe?” the younger of the two men behind Kyungsoo asked. He honestly hoped the two would just leave. They were ruining his misery-welling time.

“Yeah kid, don’t worry. I told you, the place is empty enough to be private, but crowded enough to not be suspicious.” The older man explained, his deep voice rumbling. Kyungsoo wondered why they wanted privacy. Was this some sort of date? They sure made for a strange couple, then.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just weird. Seeing how paranoid you usually are, I thought you’d want to talk about this in like, a basement or something.” Kyungsoo could feel the pressure of someone’s eyes on the back of his head.

“Yeah, well…” the deep voiced man trailed off. “I used to talk about that sort of stuff with Himchan here, before, you know… I guess I’m a little nostalgic. But we never had problems when we talked here, so I’m sure it’s all fine.” He finished, and Kyungsoo fought the urge to roll his eyes. That man seemed unnecessarily dramatic.

“I don’t know, hyung, this place seems…” Kyungsoo felt the eyes on the back of his head again, “shady, I guess.”

Since Chanyeol had stopped texting him, Kyungsoo had nothing better to do but listen to those two intruders of his peace and wonder why the hell they needed privacy for, and why would it matter if the bar was shady. Also, Kyungsoo felt a little offended on Chanyeol’s behalf, because the bar _was_ a legitimate business, thank you very much.

“It’s gonna be fine, kid. Seeing how you can barely keep your mouth shut anyway, I don’t think it matters where we’re talking.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was some secret, or whatever,” the younger said, sounding offended. Kyungsoo was now as interested in their conversation as he was in any random drama he found on TV to use as background noise while he cooked or graded papers. “It’s not like the whole office didn’t know you were obsessed with- w-well, you know!”

The older snorted, and it sounded really funny in that deep voice of his. “What, no longer namedropping The Scorpions?”

Kyungsoo chocked on his beer, and had to stop himself from coughing out loud when he heard that name. That _dumbass_ name that Chanyeol and the others used. How did those two know that name?

“Yo-you just- can you say that here?” the younger sounded just as shocked as Kyungsoo felt. “You almost lost your shit when I said that in the office, and now you’re saying it like it’s nothing! Does your paranoia go away when you drink?”

“Watching it, kid, I’m still your superior officer-“ Kyungsoo felt chills running down his spine. They were officers, policemen, and they knew about Chanyeol and The Scorpions. Were they here to arrest his boyfriend? Were they looking for him?

“And I told you not to worry, the place is safe.”

“Umm, if you say so, hyung…” the younger muttered.

“Trust me kid, it’s fine. Now, what do you wanna talk about?”

Kyungsoo tried his hardest to concentrate on the two men talking. If these two were, indeed, police officers looking for The Scorpions, or investigating them, Kyungsoo better gather as much information as possible.

He was slightly confused, though. He was sure they kept the policemen well paid enough that no one would think of opening investigations against them. Maybe it was some secret, undercover type shit.

“There’s not much to talk about, really. I already told you, like, seven times. I want to help you.”

The older man hummed, and Kyungsoo cursed his phone when it started notifying him that he got new messages again. He needed to concentrate now.

“Do you have any intel or anything like that?” Kyungsoo held his breath at that question. So this was a new case, apparently.

“Nothing more than what I’ve already told you. So nothing much at all, really.”

“Not even a name? Or a suspicion?” the older man asked, and Kyugsoo could swear his heart stopped beating in his chest.

There was a pause, where he assumed the younger either shook or nodded his head.

“No, sorry.”

He let out a breath of relief. Drinking more beer again, he quickly checked to see what Chanyeol was texting him.

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: I hate yifan hyung so much_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: like, I know ive said that before, but I really hate him_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: ok, not really, but he does piss me off a lot_

 _♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: especially now_

_Kyungsoo: What did he do?_

_♡_ _Chanyeol_ _♡_ _: he’s going back on things that he himself planned!! If I did that, id get the lecture of my life!!!!_

“Do _you_ have any suspects though, hyung?”

The younger officer’s voice got his attention back, and he had to put off sending Chanyeol a nice, supportive message.

 “Did your dad ever mention any names, or anything like that?” the older asked instead. By this point, Kyungsoo completely ignored the continuous messages from his boyfriend. Should he tell him?

“No. He only said The Scorpions would be angry if they _found out,_ whatever he was talking about.”

“Hmm.”

“So did you and your partner have any suspects?” the younger of the two asked again, and Kyungsoo held his breath for that answer. 

There was a small pause in which he imagined the older officer must be thinking if he should share his intel or not. This felt more and more like one of those police TV shows, but in real life and with actual stakes against his beloved one.

“Kind of. We have a- me and Himchan made like a…” he lowered his voice, and Kyungsoo had to focus so he wouldn’t miss anything. “We had a… a list.”

Kyungsoo’s heart stopped beating in his chest.

“A list, really?” the younger sounded impressed, however. “With- how many suspects are on it?”

A loud sound resonated from behind him, so Kyungsoo assumed the older had finished his beer and set the mug on the table. He felt kinda pathetic then, cause he was still only halfway done with his own beer. “Quite a few, actually. Like 10, 15 maybe.”

Kyungsoo willed himself to calm down quickly, before someone noticed he was distressed. And also because it would be better for him to analyze the situation without having his mind being clouded by fear.

“Anyone I might know on there, hyung?”

“Some local figures, some more high profile, others a little more underground. I’ll show it to you, if I see I can trust you.”

Kyungsoo cursed the older officer again. He wanted to know if Chanyeol was on that list more than anything. He guessed he probably wasn’t, since they were talking in his bar, but maybe that was their strategy. Hide in plain sight and all that. Maybe they _wanted_ someone to hear them talk. Maybe they knew Kyungsoo was dating him, and would get worried and curious, and that’s why the decided to talk in his proximity. Thought that must have been quite hard to plan.

Or maybe it was all a pathetic coincidence, something the universe had gifted him to keep his mind busy. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate already.

“What about that businessman that was just found dead?” Baekhyun, Kyungsoo thought. The boy was asking about Baekhyun.

“Byun? He’s on the list. Or was, since he’s off-ed now.”

Kyungsoo hummed as he drank more of his beer. So they had suspected Baekhyun. And they weren’t wrong, either. Just how many of The Scorpions were on that list?

“You think he was one of them?”

“Even if he wasn’t, the guy was definitely dirty. And his death is the shadiest one I’ve seen so far.”

Well, the guy definitely wasn’t wrong there. Byun’s death was so strange, not even Chanyeol or the others knew who killed him. Or at least Chanyeol had told him they had no idea who killed him.

“Why do you think he was killed?” the younger officer asked.

“Who the fuck knows. It’s not like these guys think twice before shooting someone down.” His tone was so remorseful Kyungsoo could feel the melancholy from where he was sitting. He wanted to dwell in his own misery, not in someone else’s. Damn those officers for ruining his already shitty night.

Still, Kyungsoo wondered if there was more to his words than just simple disdain for criminals. If only one of them would namedrop the other, then he could perhaps find more about them. And tell Chanyeol, of course. Maybe.

Maybe if he saw their faces it would be enough. He briefly thought to turn around and see their faces, but that would be as far from subtle as he could go.

The two men continued to talk. Kyungsoo half listened to them, but wasn’t really paying attention anymore. Most of his thoughts were occupied.

He tried to put together all the pieces he’d gathered. So far, he knew the two officers didn’t have much information other than a few suspects, and that this didn’t seem like an official investigation. He knew the older officer had a previous partner who was also part of said investigation, but no longer was due to… something. Kyungsoo assumed he had either been fired, or was dead. The new partner had a father that used to be involved with crime, and The Scorpions in return.

Good, so they didn’t have much, or they didn’t mention it. The biggest problem then was the list of suspects. Kyungsoo reasoned Chanyeol was probably not on that list. He always kept quiet and out of the public eye, dealing more with underground matters than flashy, money laundering businesses. Not to mention they probably wouldn’t show up in his bar of all places if they knew anything.

There were no secrets between him and Chanyeol. They told each other everything. Chanyeol was the only one he could be completely open and genuine with. Aside from the secret of Kyungsoo’s stalker for the last two months (which he reasoned to himself that it was a way of protecting his boyfriend from a fight with either his associates or with Kyungsoo himself), he’d never kept anything hidden from Chanyeol. But was this a matter important enough to tell him? The short answer was yes, definitely.

But the last thing Kyungsoo wanted was more stress and tension piled up on his beloved one. Chanyeol was not the best working under pressure, so keeping it away from him would bring more good than bad. After all, how much did these two washed up officers know? Not enough. And they could always have them paid for their silence.

Kyungsoo gulped down the rest of his beer, and decided he’d see what Chanyeol’s mood was the next day.

He looked at his phone, not even bothering to read whatever Chanyeol’s texted him so far. He shot a quick message to the other.

_Kyungsoo: I’m going home, drinking alone is quite boring. See you when you get back if I’m still awake_

He got up, and walked towards the door with sure steps. Halfway towards the exit, he turned around to see the two officers. Unfortunately, their faces were obscured by the shadows. With a sigh, he left the bar, and went out into the cold November night.

 

*

 

Chanyeol leaned against his car, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He’d texted Yifan a few minutes ago, telling him to come down so they could go meet with Heechul. The older had yet to respond to him, so Chanyeol was stuck waiting outside his apartment building, with Jongin in the car.

He’s been texting Kyungsoo too, who unfortunately also hadn’t responded to his messages. He tried not to get too worried by that, but after today’s events, and the knowledge that Kyungsoo was going to his bar alone in the evening, through darkness, he couldn’t keep his concerns at bay.

Chanyeol knew he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he prided himself on being good enough at understanding and mastering the ins and outs of the criminal underworld. He knew how things worked, how the streets were run, and how quickly word spread around. Therefore, he knew Kyungsoo was known as his boyfriend. He wore his hypothetical mark, so any people that would even think of hurting him probably harbored some suicidal tendencies.

However, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. With Baekhyun’s death, Minseok hyung’s husband being followed around and watched, and now Junmyeon hyung fainting out of nowhere at work, Chanyeol was becoming more and more worried for his Kyungsoo.

His boyfriend always expressed how much he despised the whole idea of having someone looking after him. He disagreed greatly with Junmyeon hyung having what he called ‘some sorry excuse of a bodyguard’ (which Chanyeol honestly thought was rather mean, Tao was a great guy), and absolutely did not want one for himself. Chanyeol, being the nice, understanding boyfriend he was, followed Kyungsoo’s wishes. Even if it filled him with worry whenever the other went somewhere remotely unsafe.

So now that Kyungsoo wasn’t answering his texts, Chanyeol could admit he was a very worried. Still, he tried not to make that noticeable through his messages, of course.

Jongin got out of the car, and came to stand next to Chanyeol.

“Got bored of waiting in the car, Jonginnie?” he asked the younger, hoping to lighten up his mood and forget about his nerves.

His charge smiled at him and nodded, and Chanyeol couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and ruffling the boy’s hair. He was just so adorable, and Chanyeol had always wanted a younger brother. Since he’d taken Jongin under his wing, he found himself getting closer and closer to the younger.

“A little, yeah. Umm, is Mr. Wu coming soon?” he asked nervously. He’d never met anyone else other than Luhan so far, so Chanyeol reasoned he was probably a little anxious.

“He should, at least. Don’t worry Jongin, Kris is a nice guy.” He certainly hoped their leader would be on his best behavior. He didn’t need Jongin to be even more scared, especially after the less than ideal encounter with Luhan the other day.

“If only he’d fucking come,” Chanyeol muttered, checking his phone again. No messages from either Kris or Kyungsoo. Great.

“So Jongin, how have you been?” he asked instead. He might as well fill his time making conversation.

“Umm, fine, I guess.”

“Hmm. How’s your mom?” Chanyeol asked, glaring intensely at his phone. If neither of them texted him in the next 5 minutes, he’d call.

The younger tensed next to him. “She’s alright. Working most days,” he answered awkwardly.

Chanyeol hummed, only half listening. Not that he didn’t care about Jongin and what he was saying, but the worry he felt for Kyungsoo, and his annoyance with Yifan was making his brain harder to multitask.

“That’s nice-“ he started, before his phone lit up with a notification from Kyungsoo.

 _♡♡_ _Soo!!!_ _♡♡:_ _Sorry, I had my phone on silent_

 _♡♡_ _Soo!!!_ _♡♡:_ _I just arrived_

Chanyeol breathed a loud sigh of relief. Good, Kyungsoo was fine, no more worrying. There was no safer place for him than the bar too, so he was double relieved. Now if only Yifan hyung would call him as well. He shot him another text, and then continued his conversation with his boyfriend.

Jongin seemed more relaxed now that he stopped with the topic of his family life. Chanyeol didn’t know much about Jongin’s family, other than that they needed money, and that he lived with his mother and older sister. Chanyeol had never met either of them, and Jongin most likely didn’t want him to either. He guessed they probably wouldn’t react well to knowing their baby was involved with organized crime, even if his involvement ended at being a mere driver.

Even if he was young, Chanyeol appreciated Jongin for taking care of his family so well. He was the youngest in the house, yet he risked his whole future just to ensure his mother and sisters would have a roof over their heads and food in their tummies. Chanyeol was glad each time he remembered that he’d taken the boy form the street corner, and put him in the car as his driver. Jongin was not cut for drug dealing; he was too sweet for that. Like this, by Chanyeol’s side, he was much safer.

“Um, hyung, are you sure Mr. Wu is coming?” Jongin’s voice pulled Chanyeol out of his thoughts, and out of his conversation with Kyungsoo.

“He better be,” he answered with a sigh. He looked up towards the top of the building. It was indeed nice, expensive even, but Kris had always liked more costly things. “Nice place, huh, Jongin?”

The younger looked up as well. “Yeah, it looks nice. Why didn’t you move into one of these?”

“Meh, it’s not all that, really. I’d rather die than climb 10 flights of stairs.”

“I’m sure there are elevators, hyung,” the younger answered jokingly, and Chanyeol shot him a grin before dialing Yifan’s number.

He waited a few rings, and right when he was certain the other wouldn’t answer, he heard his deep voiced “ _What?”_

“Hyung, finally! It only took you ten years. Are you coming down or what?”

The line was quiet for a while, and it only fed into Chanyeol’s curiosity. Then there was a muttered _‘Oh, shit,’,_ and Chanyeol was even more confused.

 _“Yeah, about that…”_ he started off, and Chanyeol could already tell where this was going.

“Hyung, you better not take a rain check right now-“

_“Sorry, but I really can’t come.”_

Chanyeol snorted. “Might wanna see a doctor about that; you’re still young, and I don’t think Junmyeon hyung would like that very much.” He answered bitterly, watching as Jongin’s eyes widened. Chanyeol would have laughed at his expression if he wasn’t thinking up ways to kill their leader.

_“Aren’t you just a comedian. But seriously, I can’t come. You gotta go by yourself.”_

“Like hell!” he exclaimed, only making his younger charge look more worried by the moment. "Might as well call him now and tell him we’re busy.”

 _“You know how Heechul is, Chanyeol. Go meet with him on your own, it’s gonna be fine,”_ the older reason with him.

“Why the fuck can’t you come with me?” he asked, before he remembered what happened with Junmyeon earlier that day. “Is Junmyeon hyung alright?” he asked worriedly, and a little guilty. He’d completely forgotten about the other.

_“Yeah, mostly. That’s why I can’t leave.”_

Chanyeol felt even worse now for forgetting about him. “What happened to him?”

There was silence from the other line again, and after that some sort of shuffling sound. Jongin watched him worriedly too, and Chanyeol tried to give him a reassuring smile.

 _“He was tired, basically.”_ Yifan told him much quieter now. Chanyeol realized he must have gone to another room. _“The doctor said it was due to exhaustion and stress. It’s a long story, he had something of a breakdown afterwards, and- sorry Chanyeol, but I really can’t leave him alone now.”_

Chanyeol was quiet then. He wanted to suggest having Tao keep Junmyeon hyung company, but then he felt even more like an asshole for thinking that. “And you really don’t think we can reschedule the meeting?” he asked hopefully.

 _“I don’t think so, and I don’t wanna make Heechul angry. We’re not in the best position now to call the shots, you know?”_ the other’s answer came. He suspected their leader was right.

“Well, what do I do then?” he whined, his cigarette now hanging unlit from his mouth. He grabbed it angrily and threw it on the ground before stepping on it angrily.

 _“Just go meet him alone. Or ask some of the others.”_ Came the way too logical response.

“You think they’d agree to go with me?”

_“Why not? It’s in their interest too. Especially for Luhan.”_

Chanyeol hummed. His mood was getting worse by the second. He quickly exchanged his goodbyes with Yifan, making sure to send his regards to Junmyeon hyung.

He quickly texted Kyungsoo about his irritation with Yifan, before he scrolled through his phone for Luhan’s number, muttering quietly under his breath. Jongin watched him worriedly, but had yet to say anything. Which he was grateful for, actually. He didn’t want to embarrass himself anymore in front of the other.

He called Luhan, and waited for him to answer. And then called again. And again. After the forth call, he gave up. The older was either busy, or didn’t want to answer him, which was a little hurtful if he were honest. Perhaps that was for the best, since Luhan wasn’t Heechul’s biggest fan either.

With a sight, he looked for Yixing’s number next. Minseok would probably be home with his husband by now, and in no mood of going out and negociate drug deals. Therefore, Yixing was his last chance.

Thankfully for him, his now favorite hyung answered after the first two rings.

 _“Yes?”_ his gentle voice resonated from the other line, and Chanyeol could cry of happiness.

“Hyung! Listen, are you busy now?”

_“Not right now, but I do have plans for later. Why? What’s wrong?”_

“Hyung, I need you to come with me to meet with Heechul. Please!” he begged the other, pulling his best puppy face, even if the other couldn’t see it. He hoped it translated well enough in his voice, though.

_“What happened to Yifan? Is Junmyeon alright? He hasn’t told me anything,”_

“Yeah yeah, he’s fine,” he quickly reassured the older. “That’s why he can’t come, actually, he said he wants to be with Junmyeon hyung. Please Yixing hyung, you’re my last hope!”

 _“What about Luhan? Is he busy too?”_ Chanyeol was starting to lose his hope, but he wasn’t giving up so easily.

“He didn’t even answer his phone! So yeah, probably busy.”

_“And I guess you don’t want to go by yourself.”_

“You know me so well, hyung! Please?” he asked again, his grin stretching over his face. He got this one in the bag.

_“Alright. But we have to make this short, okay? I’d rather not stay longer than midnight.”_

“No problem! If you’re there, I’m sure we’ll be done quickly!” he briefly wondered what other arrangements Yixing had, but quickly decided he didn’t care. As long as he didn’t have to face Heechul alone, he was alright with whatever the other did.

“I can come pick you up! Where are you?”

_“I was just about to leave the hospital.”_

“Well, we’ll be waiting for you outside the entrance, then!” he said gesturing for Jongin to get into the car. The younger quickly complied.

_“We? Who else is with you?”_

“Me and my driver,” Chanyeol answered, getting into the front seat of the car. “You know my car, right?”

_“Yes. Text me when you’re close.”_

Chanyeol’s smile was now overtaking his face. “Sure thing! And thank you, hyung, you’re the best!”

The older chuckled, and cut off the call. Chanyeol turned towards his charge, who was waiting patiently for directions.

“To the Seoul Central Hospital, Jongin!” he exclaimed happily. He turned to his phone again, to continue his previous conversation with his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and thanks for reading! Sorry if this chapter was shorter (and kinda sucked) in comparison to the last ones, but I wanted to ge it out of the way before I move on with other things.
> 
> In the next chapter kaixing finally, FINALLY meet! I'm so excited for that. Sorry it took 10 goddamn chapters for that, but I didn't wanna rush anything.
> 
> Also, in the future, should I give warnings for any sexual content?? I'd honestly rather not, cause I want it to be like a surprise when it happens (and the story will have a rating by then), but if anyone wants it, I might reconsider. Please let me know!! ^^


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I'm finally back with chapter 10. First off, apologies are in order, because this chapter went up way, waaay later than I was planning on. I'm honestly really sad about it. I don't like making excuses at all, but college has been killing me recently, so I barely got time to write, and when I did get time, I felt like every word just sucked. But it's here now, and I'm very pleased with how it turned out!! I hope this 10k+ chapter makes up for the weeks I missed.
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone that has been commenting, leaving kudos, and just overall reading the story! It really means the world to me! I thought no one would even check it out, let alone taking the time to comment on it! I know it sounds really dumb, but I almost cried when my story hit 1k hits, or 100 kudos. I hope you'll like how the story will go on from here on as well.
> 
> Finally, happy late birthday to my darling bias Junmyeon!! I hope he had a good birthday, that he is happy and healty! And happy late birthday to our darling Baekhyun as well! I feel kinda bad that I killed him off in this story, even though he's still one of the driving forces of the plot, but I'll try to write more stuff with him in the future.

Yixing received Chanyeol’s message while he was putting on his coat. He left his office immediately after he read it. He dialed Dr. Song’s number as he walked along the quiet hospital walls. Yixing usually enjoyed the night shifts because of the quietness and silence. It was not quite as hectic as during the day. Sadly, he couldn’t have the night shifts as frequently as he’d like, since there was always something else he needed to do under the cover of darkness in his less-than-ideal second occupation.

 _“Hello?”_ Dr. Song’s melodious voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“Hello, Dr. Qian. How is your evening going?” he asked sweetly, smiling even though she couldn’t see it. He was sure she could hear it in his voice anyway.

She chuckled. _“I’m doing fine, Yixing. You? Did you just leave?”_

“Yes, my shift just ended some time ago,” Yixing reached the main hall, greeting the other doctors and nurses he met along the way.

 _“And now you’re on your way over?”_ she asked, not even hesitating. Yixing chuckled too. Not because he found her particularly cute or adorable, but because of his continuous amusement and astonishment at her lack of awareness. How could such a brilliant woman be so blind?

“That’s why I called you, actually.”

 _“Don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me, Yixing.”_ Qian said, not trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. _“It’s been so long since you’ve been over, since we spent some time together,”_

“I’m not cancelling, don’t worry. But I will arrive a little later. Something came up, unfortunately.” He explained smoothly, and ignored her loud sigh. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about spending the night with her, but he couldn’t let Dr. Song go under any circumstances. She was too important, and Yixing discovered that sweet and gentle words were the easiest way to make her do whatever he wanted.

It wasn’t like the nights spent with her were all that horrible, either. They provided endless observing of an interesting woman’s behavior, and the pleasures that came with her company.

_“All right then, but you will come, right? I hope you’re not making me wait until 2 am just so you won’t turn up at all.”_

“Of course not. What kind of monster would I be then?” he asked jokingly, which successfully got a laugh out of her. He exited through the hospital gates, spotting Chanyeol’s car quickly. The taller standing by it and waving his arms helped too.

_“Can I ask what’s come up, at least?”_

Yixing smiled when he reached the grinning redhead. “A friend of mine needs some help, he’s not feeling too well. I’ll just check on him, and as soon as I’m done I’ll come by. Is that alright with you?”

 _“Oh, of course!”_ she agreed immediately, just as Yixing thought she would. _“I hope there’s nothing too serious with your friend.”_

“I hope so, too. I’ll call you soon, Qian.”

They quickly exchanged their greetings, and finished the call. If Dr. Song became particularly curious or suspicious, he could just say he was going to check on Junmyeon. A horrible thing to use as an alibi, yes, but it was precisely for that reason that he’d chosen it. He knew Qian wouldn’t doubt it.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” he greeted the taller warmly.

“Hyung, I am so glad you could come! I’m forever grateful to you!” Chanyeol exclaimed, gesticulating dramatically. Yixing found it very endearing.

“No problem, Chanyeol-ah. I’m glad to help.”

The younger reached for the door to the backseat. “Let’s go, then! You can sit in the front, hyung.”

Yixing was confused by the other’s words, before he remembered Chanyeol telling him about having a driver.

And sure thing, in the driver seat, there was another man. He looked slightly younger than Chanyeol, definitely younger than Yixing. Handsome, clean. A pretty boy at first glance, for sure. Who was he?

“I didn’t know you had a driver, Chanyeol,” he said, a little surprised. Chanyeol loved his car; he barely let Kyungsoo drive it. So why did he have a driver now?

“Ahh, well, times are changing, hyung. Didn’t Luhan hyung tell you?” Chanyeol asked hurriedly. “I was sure the two of you shared… most things.” He was clearly trying to deter the attention from his driver, and it only made Yixing more curious.

“I don’t think he did, no.” Yixing said, watching the young man next to him closely.

“Well anyway, now that that’s settled, let’s go, shall we?”

Yixing ignored his friend’s obvious discomfort, and smiled gently at the young driver. He extended his hand to him, watching as the younger’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m Dr. Zhang Yixing. Pleased to meet you.” He said sweetly, trying to dial down the intensity of his gaze.

The driver hurried to take his hand. His palm was a little bigger than Yixing’s own, and warm. He guessed he was taller as well.

“K-Kim Jongin,” the boy introduced himself, stuttering over his words. Yixing found himself thinking it was cute. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.” He finished with an awkward smile. Yixing squeezed the younger’s hand slightly, hoping it would put him more at ease.

Chanyeol put his hand on his driver’s shoulder, like a wall between the two. “Let’s go, Jongin. We’re already late, I think.”

Yixing was the first one to break their handshake, and settled into his seat. He was now more excited about the meeting than before.

Jongin kept his hands firmly on the wheel and the eyes on the road as he drove through the busy streets of nighttime Seoul. Chanyeol and the other man, Dr. Zhang, were talking about one Junmyeon, a name that Jongin recognized from when Chanyeol hyung was talking to Mr. Wu on the phone. He pushed his curiosity down, and tried to concentrate on the road. He had a feeling that it was better if he didn’t know too much.

He tried his hardest not to sneak a glance at the man next to him, but he found it very difficult. How could he be calm, when he was seated next to another one of The Scorpions? While he was relieved to not have to meet Mr. Wu yet, Jongin still felt incredibly nervous.

Because there he was, Kim Jongin, who two months ago had nothing to do with anything criminal related, who almost pissed his pants the first time he saw Chanyeol in the flesh, who knew he wasn’t cut out for the whole criminal thing, who was now sitting next to Dr. Zhang Yixing. Well, not that most people in the underworld knew him by name, but they surely _knew_ of him. Most called him some dumb comic book-y name like The Demon Doctor, or the Angel of Death. A little too dramatic for his taste, but that seemed to be a running thing in this industry.

Perhaps that’s why Jongin found him so intriguing now. He would be less surprised if the doctor had more of a movie super villain look to him. Like a mad scientist or something. Instead, the Demon Doctor looked like any regular man, with a pediatrician-like aura about him.

That was something Jongin learnt about crime bosses in the short time he’s been in the business. They barely looked like their reputation would make one believe. Expect for Luhan, who was known for his young looks, neither Chanyeol nor Dr. Zhang looked nor sounded as he’d expected them to, based on rumors.

Which sometimes was more frightening, actually. Why did such handsome, seemingly harmless men choose the criminal life or themselves? While Jongin was sure money played a big part in their decisions (as it did with his), the possibility that there was something darker beneath their good looks other than a hunger for cash was terrifying.

It was making Jongin extremely anxious to be around them sometimes, and the dreaded thought that he could never escape the criminal underworld was starting to become more of a reality.

He desperately tried to keep his eyes on the road, despite his curiosity telling him to sneak a glance at Dr. Zhang, or to listen more carefully to the conversation between the two. However, all Jongin wanted was to keep a low profile, make enough money so he could get out of this ‘job’, and then hopefully return to his normal life. Therefore, knowing inside information about crime bosses’ lives should not be something he was interested in.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. When he stopped at a red light, he sneaked a small glance from the corner of his eye at the man on his right side. His breath caught in his throat when his gaze met Dr. Zhang’s intense one. The man must have been watching him for some time, based on his relaxed posture.

Jongin forced a small smile, which was of course returned. Or at least he thought so; the doctor was smiling more often than not. It was rather soothing. Unsettling too.

“Fuck!” Chanyeol screamed suddently, and Jongin flinched in his seat. His eyes turned immediately to the road. He could still feel the weight of Dr. Zhang’s gaze upon him.

“What’s wrong, Chanyeol?” the doctor asked gently, and Jongin felt his heart rate pick up. That soft voice felt so out of place, especially when compared to the intense stare Jongin could still feel.

“Kyungsoo is going home, alone! In the dark, at this hour-!”

“It’s not really that late,” Dr. Zhang tried to reason with him, but Chanyeol continued.

“-and I’m trying not to freak out! And it’s obviously not working!” he finished with a deep sigh, and Jongin had to admit he was a little worried himself for his hyung. Chanyeol used to check on Kyungsoo a few times a day, but since yesterday he more than tripled the amount of times he called and texted him. Jongin wondered if the sudden meet up of The Scorpions and shift in their daily activities had something to do with it. Maybe there were even more things going on that he didn’t know of.

“You need to calm down. I’m sure Kyungsoo will be fine.” Dr. Zhang said, his voice as sweet as ever. Jongin foolishly thought he could listen to him talk for hours, before he threw that thought to the back of his mind. Where did that come from?

Chanyeol sighed again. “Do you think I worry too much, hyung?” he asked the older. “I mean, I know Kyungsoo is capable of taking care of himself and all that, but like- I’m not crazy to worry, am I?”

“Of course not. It’s normal to worry for your boyfriend, Chanyeol.”

“I still think I’m stressing too much,” he mumbled, his fingers drumming along Jongin’s seat. “Do you think I’m stressing too much, Jongin?”

Jongin wanted the ground to swallow the car in that moment, especially when he looked towards the two men to see Dr. Zhang’s eyes still watching him. He gulped, trying to force some words out. “Um, I don’t know, hyung-“

“But it’s not like I have no reason to, right?” Chanyeol asked them, trying to reassure himself. Jongin wasn’t even mad at being interrupted; he was glad to not have all that attention on him. Even though he could still feel the buzzing he’d associated with Dr. Zhang’s stare, he was starting to think he was imagining it. He didn’t check though, he had to watch the road. He’d rather not know the answer anyway.

“I would say you do, yes.” Dr. Zhang agreed smoothly. “I would be careful if I were you, though. They say stress is the disease of the 21st century,” he finished off with a light chuckle, and Jongin felt shivers run down his spine at the sound. He didn’t know if they were because he was scared, or because Dr. Zhang had a really nice laugh.

Chanyeol hyung sighed again, and Jongin felt slightly sorry for him. He wondered how much pressure these crime bosses were under. He’d almost feel sorry if what they were doing wasn’t illegal.

“I’m trying to be calm, but with everything that’s been happening, it’s kinda hard,” he said, and Jongin wondered _what_ exactly has happened. It must be something really bad if his usually laid back hyung was so stressed out now.

“What with Beakhyun’s death, Minseok hyung’s husband being stalked, and Junmyeon hyung getting sick, I’m really starting to think someone is targeting us.”

Jongin felt his heart rate pick up, and his palms sweating on the wheel at the other’s words. Suddenly Chanyeol’s worries seemed more understandable. What the hell was going on? Was that the same Baekhyun whose death was on the morning news? Jongin remembered hearing his name mentioned briefly, and his mother commenting on what a shame it was that such a young businessman had passed away. He didn’t pay much attention, as he was trying to hold back tears while looking over the bills for that month, and now he cursed himself for not listening more carefully.

He really wanted to ask Chanyeol what the hell was happening, who this Baekhyun was, why did he die, what he had to do with them, and so many other things. Would Jongin be in danger? Would his family be in danger?

“You think all these things are related?” Dr. Zhang asked, and in any other circumstance, Jongin would be embarrassed to admit he took some comfort from his voice. It was strangely calming, even when Jongin was freaking the fuck out.

Chanyeol snorted loudly from behind him. “What, you’re telling me you _really_ don’t think there’s a connection?”

“Well-“ Dr. Zhang started, before Chanyeol cut him off.

“Like yeah, sure, maybe Junmyeon hyung fainting was just a coincidence,” the taller said, and Jongin could swear he heard the doctor chuckle next to him, “but the rest? Definitely connected.”

“So you think Jongdae’s stalker is related to Baekhyun’s murdered?”

“I could bet on it, hyung! C’mon, it’s obvious! Whatever the fuck Baekhyun was messing with it’s coming for us now, and I don’t fucking understand why I’m the only dumbass freaking out here!” his voice got louder and louder as he went, and by the time he finished, Chanyeol was basically screaming in Jongin’s ear. And that wasn’t helping to calm his nerves in the slightest.

“I’m sure the others are just as worried as you are, they’re just better at hiding it. Or they have other things on their mind.” Came the expected calm and collected answer.

“But still!” Chanyeol argued, his tone of voice as high as before. Jongin was sure he’d be soon deaf in his right ear. “You guys all seem so relaxed!” Jongin really wanted to disagree, even though he knew the redhead wasn’t talking about him; he was very much _not_ relaxed.

“There’s gonna be the media, who are already fucking eating this story up, and I don’t wanna brag, but like, _I told you so!_ It only takes that one dumb intern that’s hungry for his big break to dig in the wrong spot, and we’re all toast!” Jongin knew the older was probably exaggerating, based on how he usually was, as well as the doctor’s continued relaxed state (not that Jongin sneaked a glance or anything), but he couldn’t help the nerves making his hands shakier by the second. He could only hope neither of the two men noticed.

“Not to mention the police-“

“Kris told us that’s handled,”

“For how long, though? Again, it takes one hungry, fresh out of the academy or wherever the fuck they go, honorable and just officer to ask the wrong questions to the wrong people, and we’re fucked!”

From the corner of his eye, Jongin could see Dr. Zhang turning to look at redhead. “That could’ve happened at any time, Chanyeol. Don’t tell me you’re just now realizing it.”

“Of course not, hyung. But… I don’t know, I guess I’m just really worried something bad will happen. Something bad _did_ happen. I don’t wanna know what’s coming next.” He said in a much quiet voice, the worry obvious in his voice.

Dr. Zhang reached back to squeeze Chanyeol’s hand, before speaking again in his soft, soft voice, “Everything will be fine, don’t worry. Kris said it’s all taken care of with the police, and Junmyeon is healthy and safe at home. We’ll find out who Jongdae’s stalker is, and I’m sure Minseok will do whatever he can to protect his husband. Whatever happened to Baekhyun will come to light. And most of all, nothing bad will happen to Kyungsoo. Or to your driver.”

At the mention of him, Jongin’s head snapped towards the doctor, to see him smiling at Chanyeol gently. He himself found the little monologue to be very calming and reassuring, to the point where all the worry and anxiety was washed away in a few moments, but that little illusion was all ruined when the doctor mentioned him out of nowhere.

Chanyeol didn’t seem to mind his inclusion, as he was grinning from ear to ear now, his eyes lighting up. “Hyung, you’re always so good with words.”

Dr. Zhang laughed, and turned back around in his seat. “You all make it easy for me. I’m starting to consider taxing all of you for these small therapy sessions.”

“Who else comes to talk to you?” Chanyeol asked curiously.

“Now, I can’t tell you that. Ever heard of doctor-patient confidentiality?” the older asked jokingly, the previous tense mood now significantly lifted.

The car was quiet for a few moments after that, and Jongin could finally fully concentrate back onto the road. The address Chanyeol told him about was close to the outskirts of Seoul. He guessed it was something important they had to do there, since Chanyeol had been freaking out over Mr. Wu not being able to come with him, and desperately tried to convince Dr. Zhang to go instead. After the incident yesterday, Jongin was reluctant to go, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He was only the driver anyway, and he knew Chanyeol didn’t want him too involved with these matters, so he thought he’d be okay.

The tingling he now attributed to Dr. Zhang watching him returned again, and Jongin did his best not to squirm under the other’s gaze. It was like the side of his face caught on fire each time the older watched him, like the intensity of his stare was burning him. Jongin thought it was very dumb of him to over think the other’s looks in his direction. It was very much possible that Dr. Zhang was just very bored, and he had nothing to entertain himself with other than Jongin’s profile. Especially since they were driving in the middle of nowhere.

He also felt rather guilty. He remembered how much street dealers were dying to meet one of the crime bosses, and climb up the ladder in the business. Yet here he was, meeting one Scorpion after another, and all he could think of was when he’d finally be free from his involvement. While Jongin was trying to not appear too uncomfortable when he sat next to them, he knew there were several others at the bottom of the organization that would give an arm and a leg to even breathe the same air as one of them, let alone two.

He remembered with a fond smile the first time he saw Chanyeol, tall with his fiery red hair, cigarette between his long fingers, Rolex shining brightly on his wrist. The whole street froze in place, and Jongin had watched with fearful eyes as the rumored bloodthirsty crime boss walked with sure steps along the concrete. If only he’d known the truth then, he wouldn’t have been so scared out of his mind.

“Umm, hyung, did we arrive?” Jongin asked Chanyeol when he spotted an old warehouse. From what he’d gathered so far about crime bosses, he knew they liked to meet up in these overly dramatic places.

“Yeah, this is it! Just drive through there, Jongin,” he said, extending his arm over Jongin’s shoulder to point at the entrance.

He drove carefully, ignoring the several people keeping guard along the way. “We’re late, aren’t we?” Dr. Zhang asked, looking out the window and smiling at those they passed by. Jongin on the other hand, tried his hardest to not make eye contact with any of them, even if they couldn’t see him from outside the car.

“It doesn’t matter, we’re here now,” Chanyeol responded, looking through his pockets for his cigarettes. It _did_ matter, however, because he knew Heechul hated it when people weren’t punctual. “Thought, umm, hyung, if Heechul asks, can _you_ tell him why we’re late?” he asked sheepishly, and Jongin began to dread this Heechul more and more. He must be a big deal if he made Chanyeol act so awkward.

Dr. Zhang chuckled, and nodded his head. Silence settled over the car again. Jongin really wished he’d turned the radio on before they went to pick up Dr. Zhang.

“Here we go,” Chanyeol muttered, his voice becoming deeper. Jongin could see a group of people standing in the middle of the abandoned warehouse, and in front of said group, a shorter man was walking back and forth.

“Jongin, you stay in the car, alright?”

“Yes, hyung,” he answered. He was really relieved and grateful that Chanyeol didn’t want him involved.

“I’m serious. Don’t get out of the car unless I tell you, alright?”

“Yes, hyung,”

The two older men got out of the car, Chanyeol first, and then Dr. Zhang, who sent Jongin another smile before leaving as well. Left all alone, the youngest sighed. He leaned back into the seat, and turned up the radio on full blast. He’d rather not hear anything he shouldn’t. He already knew too much.

Heechul stared at the car, complaints already on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t like waiting around. If there was one thing he valued, it was punctuality.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!” he said when Chanyeol got out of the car, his large frame slightly hunched over. He knew the redhead wasn’t his biggest fan, and he took great pleasure in teasing him. All in good fun, of course.

“I hope you two have a good reason for leaving your hyung waiting for you-“ he started, before he saw Zhang Yixing getting out from the front seat. That was, to say the least, unexpected. “Well, hello there doctor. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you. Where’s Kris?”

Yixing, smiling as always, responded quickly. “He had a family emergency. He’s very sorry he couldn’t come himself, but he sent me in his stead. I hope that’s not a problem, no?” he lied straight to his teeth, almost feeling guilty for using Junmyeon’s condition as an excuse again. Though in this case it was actually true, he reasoned.

Heechul’s gave them a smirk. “Sure, sure, it’s no problem. As long as someone competent comes, I don’t have any complains.” He finished with a glance in Chanyeol’s direction, and the taller hated to admit he felt lightly offended. He willed his pout away, though. “Send Kris my regards, will you? And I hope whatever… _emergency_ he had, it’s all sorted out.”

Yixing nodded, and hoped there was an official document somewhere of either Junmyeon’s hospitalization or his release, because he knew Heechul would check. Word on the street would probably work too. “Of course, I’ll let him know. Now, onto the matter-“

“Whoa, going straight to business? But you just got here!” the older drug dealer exclaimed, and Yixing had to fight to keep the smile in place. The last thing he wanted was to waste time gossiping, especially when Chanyeol had yet to say a single word.

“And there’s so much news to cover, too,” he continued, all of them aware of what he was talking about. Both Yixing and Chanyeol wondered just how much the older knew, because if there was someone with their noses in everyone’s business, it was definitely Heechul.

“First of all, I guess condolences are in order, for your poor associate’s death,” he started, and Chanyeol lighted up his cigarette. Yixing wanted to give him a disapproving glare, but kept his eyes firmly on Heechul.

“Thank you, it is much appreciated,” Yixing responded softly, “but we offer our condolences to you as well. After all, Baekhyun was your friend,”

Yixing truthfully had no idea how the two were such good friends, especially considering Heechul was not Baekhyun’s supplier for whatever he sold in his clubs and brothels. He guessed the two must have met at some point, and bonded over their similarities.

As it was the case with many things surrounding Baekhyun, this one would remain a mystery as well.

Heechul waved his words of comfort away, though. He didn’t seem bothered at all to discuss his apparent friend’s death. “Thank you, but he was _only_ a friend, in the end. There’s a big difference between friends and business partners in my book. They’re in different categories all together.”

Yixing hummed, wondering where all this was going. He could see Chanyeol being as confused as he was.

“I’m quite forgiving with my friends, but I’m even more forgiving with my business partners. Which is why I have already forgiven you all for killing my friend. Business comes first to me, you know?”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Chanyeol asked, a frown taking over his face.

Heechul watched him incredulously. “C’mon, there’s no reason to play dumb with me. We’ve been doing business since you guys were just starting out! I already told you you’re forgiven. To be quite frank, I wasn’t even surprised when I heard about it. I was disappointed thought, because _my god,_ was that a sloppy cleanup if I ever saw one! No offence, doctor,” he said, shooting Yixing a small smile.

“Wait wait wait, you think _we_ killed Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked, finally catching onto what the older was implying.

Heechul snorted. “What, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t?”

“We honestly didn’t,” Yixing responded, smile no longer present on his lips. “What makes you think we did?”

“That’s what _everyone_ thinks, doctor.”

“You’re joking,” Chanyeol said, his eyes wide. He took another drag of his cigarette before it went out.

“Nope. Most people in our side of business think you guys finally got tired of him, shot him, and got all his shit.”

They were quiet for a while, before Yixing spoke up. “Well, we can assure you it wasn’t us.”

“I don’t need reassurance. I don’t care if you guys did it or not.” Heechul retorted. “And if it wasn’t you, who the hell was it anyway?”

“That’s the thing; we don’t know.” Chanyeol answered. The older regarded him with narrowed eyes.

“You don’t know?” he began, watching both Chanyeol and Yixing carefully. When neither of their expressions showed any signs of changing, he wondered whether they were telling the truth, or if Chanyeol got better at lying overnight.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Heechul asked, looking from one Scorpion to the other. He looked back at his men, most of whom seemed as confused as him.

“I’m telling you hyung, it wasn’t us,” Chanyeol began softly, before Yixing cut him off, his voice serious.

“You said it yourself, the cleanup was sloppy; you’ve seen how we operate, how careful we are. You can tell this wasn’t our work.” Yixing said, watching the older dealer closely. Heechul might be a criminal mastermind, but he was just as easy to read as any other person, and Yixing could tell he was genuinely confused.

“If it was us, we wouldn’t have left the body there for the fucking police to find. The media is having a field day with this one.” Chanyeol continued, more confident than before.

“And we barely got anything out of Baekhyun’s death; a few brothels and casinos are not worth putting the whole organization at risk with a poorly executed kill.” Yixing finished, slightly offended that Heechul thought they would do such a sloppy job.

The oldest was quiet for a while, going over the information in his head. He didn’t think much on the matter of Baekhyun’s death when he first heard of it; sure, they were friends, but that was it. The Scorpions have been his business partners for ages, and he wasn’t going to cut off his connection to them just because they off-ed his friend, who also happened to work with them. So if they were the ones blowing his brains out, whatever. It was fine for him.

But now that he thought of it, it really didn’t make much sense. The way it was done, the way the body was left, the fact that the news caught wind of it; everything pointed to the fact that someone wanted the corpse to be found. And why would a big organization like The Scorpions want that?

Yixing was right, Heechul concluded. They were always careful, always covering their tracks well. Even when they shot that cop last month, it was as if it never happened. This was not them.

“You guys have any suspects?” he asked darkly, because things were taking a completely different turn now. If his business partners weren’t the one that killed his friend, it meant someone else did it, someone Heechul probably had no connection to.

“None as of yet. Unfortunately.” Yixing answered, his voice going back to his usual soft tone.

“Well…” Chanyeol trailed off, wondering if he should continue. Perhaps it was better if he kept his mouth shut. Heechul wasn’t going to let that be the case, however.

“Well what? You guys do have a suspect?”

Chanyeol looked to Yixing for help, who only shrugged his shoulders. The redhead sighed, before he said “Well it’s not really a suspect, I guess, but the only person we thought of is Jessica Jung… but that’s like, only an assumption.”

Heechul pondered that information. Jessica Jung; he reckoned it made sense a little. She definitely had the motive, with her taking Baekhyun’s most prized possession, his favorite club, and having known him personally, he probably wouldn’t have found it weird of her to approach him in a small church for a chat. But still, something about Jessica Jung doing it did not fit the bill.

“No, I don’t think it was her. It doesn’t make sense.” He said in the end.

“You know her, right?” Yixing asked, and Heechul nodded at his question.

“Yeah, but I don’t like her.” He fished out his own cigarette case from inside his coat’s pocket, and gestured to one of his men for a lighter. After the cigarette was safely between his lips, he looked up to see both men with shocked expressions.

“You two seemed surprised,”

Chanyeol shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, she was good friends with Baekhyun, so we just assumed she was friends with you too. That’s why I didn’t wanna mention her as a potential suspect to you.”

Heechul chuckled. “No, no, we’re not friends. I don’t like those that bought their way to the top instead of getting there by skill. Jessica’s more of a businesswoman than a criminal.”

Yixing hummed. “I guess I see where you’re coming from.”

“Yeah, you know, kinda like how Chanyeol’s more of a criminal than a businessman,” the older said with a smile, blowing out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. That smile turned into a grin when he heard Chanyeol’s offended “Hey!”

“Back on track, so you guys have no idea who killed Baekhyun then.” Both Scorpions shook their heads, and Heechul sighed. “If you get some leads, I’d like a call and some details.”

Yixing nodded, agreeing immediately. Chanyeol looked shocked, but didn’t say a word.

Heechul was a little surprised with himself too. He wouldn’t say he wanted revenge exactly, but he wouldn’t be against putting a few bullets in his friend’s murderer.

“Now that we’re all caught up, can we discuss what we came here for?”

“In a rush, doctor?” he asked, but continued before the younger could answer him. “There’s not much to talk about, really. The price stays the same, the amount from now on will be increased every month, just like Kris requested. The extra for this month is in back of my car, one of my men will carry it over to yours.”

Just like he said, one of his men already made his way to grab a few small packages from the back of a black car.

“You got the cash, right? Don’t tell me I have to wait to meet with Kris for that.”

Chanyeol nodded quickly, before he took an envelope from the inside of his jacket. He passed it to Heechul, who quickly opened it and counted the money inside. When the older nodded, his man walked towards Chanyeol’s car, ready to place the packed batch inside.

“Might I ask you something?” Yixing inquired. The older only raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Why did you never do business with Baekhyun? You two were friends, but he had some other supplier. I’ve always found that strange.” He finished, not bothering to conceal the curiosity in his voice.

Heechul took another drag of his cigarette, before he answered. “I don’t really have an answer for that. I guess I don’t like mixing business with friendship.”

“But you said business comes first for you,” Chanyeol muttered, only to receive a glare from the older.

“What is this, fucking group therapy?” the redhead flinched, and hurried to apologize, while Yixing tried to keep in his laugh. “If you’re really curious, Baekhyun had another dealer, I don’t know who. But he said that from the next month, he’d cut off business with them, and would only buy form me. Obviously, that never came to happen.”

Chanyeol and Yixing exchanged a quick look, before Heechul continued. “I thought that was one of the reasons you guys had for killing him; that you found out, and he didn’t wanna share, or give you guys a cut, or something.”

“We knew he had another dealer, but not who it was. They were charging him a lot, though.” Chanyeol explained, remembering the talks he’d had with Baekhyun over this matter in the past.

Heechul nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he told me that too. Now that I think of it, it wouldn’t be too farfetched for that dealer to have shot him. Maybe they found out he wanted out of the deal.”

Silence settled over them once again. “Who knows,” Yixing said in the end. “Are we done here, then?”

“Yeah, we are.” Heechul responded, looking at them with a somehow fond expression. “As always, it was a pleasure doing business with you.” He extended his hand to Chanyeol, who hurried to grab it. Yixing thought it really amusing how the younger redhead was trying to make himself appear smaller by lowering his shoulders, and folding himself inwards.

“Doctor, it was nice seeing you again,” he said while shaking Yixing’s hand. “And I’m sorry for thinking that you’d do something so careless and sloppy as Baekhyun’s death was.”

“Apologies accepted.” Yixing answered with a chuckle. “I’m glad we sorted things out, then.”

Heechul nodded. “If you guys find anything, call me. I’ll do the same.”

After they exchanged their last greetings, both Chanyeol and Yixing got inside the car. Jongin quickly turned down the volume on the radio, and straightened up in his seat.

“Drive, Jongin,” Chanyeol said with a sigh.

“Umm, where to?”

“Literally anywhere, but away from here,” he said, sounding really out of breath. Dr. Zhang laughed softly from next to him.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it, Chanyeol?” he asked jokingly, only to get another deep sigh from the redhead.

“I’d rather not think about it at all, hyung. Anyways, where do you need to go?”

Yixing told Jongin the address, and the younger started the car immediately.

 

*

 

Minseok arrived home much later than he expected. After he’d called Jongdae around noon, he thought the best way to let out some frustration would be to hit the gym. Time went by quickly, and he almost forgot he promised his managers he’d drop by the restaurants. Thankfully, they hadn’t closed yet, and Minseok, planning on stepping his husband game up, picked up some leftovers. He only hoped Jongdae wouldn’t mind eating those instead of a cooked dinner.

When he heard the door being opened and then closed shortly after, Jongdae jolted right up from the couch. He felt very much like a pet as he watched Minseok come into the living room. All the courage he tried to work up for the last few hours quickly vanished when he saw the older. He looked tired, and probably the last thing he wanted to do was have a heart to heart with him.

Minseok fully expected to find Jongdae sitting on the couch reading or watching TV, as he usually did. What he didn’t expect was for his young husband to watch him with large, curious eyes. He’d kinda gotten used to Jongdae trying to ignore him as much as possible.

“Hey there,” he said awkwardly, trying not to imagine how much Luhan would laugh at him for the way he acted now. It was quite pathetic, he could admit.

“Hi,” came the response in his favorite voice, and even a small smile on his favorite lips. Even if it looked slightly forced and tensed around the corners of his darling’s mouth, he was glad for it nonetheless. It seemed that the time spent alone really did make Jongdae warm up to him.

Minseok sat down on the couch, a feeling of déjà vu coming over him. It reminded him of last night, when he came home, tired and in a horrible mood, only to feel worse when Jongdae started crying and arguing with him.

Now though, he felt a little better, because at least Jongdae was smiling and acknowledging his presence instead of acting like Minseok wasn’t around.

He’d love to talk to Jongdae more, but he’d learned that pushing him was not the way to go. With how tired he was, Minseok was content enough with just knowing the other did not abhor sitting next to him anymore. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, thinking he’d stay like that for a few minutes, before trying to persuade Jongdae to eat dinner together, or to at least sit with him while he ate.

He could hear some drama playing on TV, and was convinced Jongdae must be watching it. When the sound abruptly stopped, he was ready to get up too, thinking his husband finally had enough of his presence. But he felt Jongdae wiggling on the couch, so kept his eyes closed, curious as to what the younger would do.

Minseok most definitely did not expect a soft pressure against his right thigh. He opened his eyes the second Jongdae stopped moving around, and peered down at his lap. He was greeted with the beautiful sight of his husband’s face, his eyes closed and expression relaxed.

Minseok could feel his heart starting to beat faster by the second, like he was some high school student whose crush just noticed them for the first time. In his defence, it’s been so long since Jongdae was the one initiating any sort of contact, unless it was driven by fear. His darling looked pretty relaxed now though, so that couldn’t be the reason.

He didn’t dwell on it further, and instead counted his blessings, and moved his shaking hand towards the younger’s scalp. He was very glad Jongdae’s eyes were closed, because he did not want to be seen so unsure of himself. He ran his fingers lightly over his husband’s soft hair, before fully sinking his hand though the silky strands. His heart just about jumped out of his chest when the younger didn’t flinch.

He spent some time just like that, petting Jongdae softly, watching his face carefully, from his shapely lips, to his closed eyes, high cheekbones, and Minseok was falling in love all over again.

“How was your day, baby?” he asked, his voice soft, not wanting to disturb the peaceful aura that had been missing for what felt like ages.

Thankfully, Jongdae stayed just as calm as before. “It was okay,” he answered, keeping his eyes closed. “I talked to one of my friends, from college. She said she’d give me the notes for the courses I missed.”

Minseok listened attentively, losing himself in the other’s melodious voice. “I took care of your attendance, by the way. You don’t need to worry about that,” he wanted to reassure the other, but when he saw him tensing up, Minseok almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

But Jongdae seemed in a very good and generous mood, because he relaxed shortly afterwards. “Thank you for that,” he said. After a few moments, he talked again. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

This was it, Jongdae thought. There would be no other time better than right now to talk to Minseok. He took in a deep breath, trying to be as subtle as he could.

“What is it?” comes the older’s soft reply, and Jongdae opened his eyes. Only to close them back when he saw the intense gaze looking down at him. Perhaps not looking at Minseok was better.

“Umm,” he began, not even knowing where to start. There were many, many things he wanted to tell him. He quickly went through the bullet list of _Things to talk to Minseok about._ He wanted to apologize, first of all, and then, hopefully, Minseok would try to explain himself better than he did before. He then wanted to discuss a few aspects of their relationship, but that one seemed a particularly heavy topic for right now. Jongdae didn’t have the right words in mind, and he’d rather not say something he’d later regret.

Maybe he should have thought more of _how_ to actually say these things, instead of spending most of the day figuring out _what_ to say.

“Yes?” Minseok urged him on gently. Jongdae gulped.

“Umm, the thing is…” the older hummed as he continued to run his fingers through his hair. “There’s this… musical that my department is organizing.”

Not exactly what he wanted to talk to the other about, but it seemed like a good place to start. Might as well get this one out of the way before all the heavy stuff. He reasoned that if Minseok reacted well to the news about the musical, it’d be easier to talk about the actual problems afterwards. Good thinking, Jongdae. He mentally patted himself on the back.

“Oh. I’m guessing you want to participate?” Minseok asked, and as much as he wanted to open his eyes and see what kind of face he made, Jongdae kept them firmly shut. He willed his muscles to remain relaxed.

“Kind of, I mean… I don’t _really_ want to, but I wouldn’t be like… opposed to it,” God, that sounded dumb to his own ears. He really should have rehearsed some lines beforehand.

“O…kay?” Minseok sounded very confused. Jongdae backtracked quickly.

“I mean, I do want to participate. Well, more like my teacher wants me to, and I’d like to as well, but I didn’t know if you’d be… okay with it? And I’m kinda nervous as well… so… yeah…”

If he wasn’t trying to appear nonchalant, Jongdae would have hidden his face in his hands, because that was a very poor attempt at expressing his thoughts.

Good thing Minseok understood him nonetheless. “So your professor wants you to take part in this musical?”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “He brings it up at every lecture.”

The older hummed in understanding, continuing to pet Jongdae. “And would _you_ want to participate?”

“Kind of, yeah. But my teacher wants me to be the lead, and I don’t… want that, really.”

“And why not? I’m sure you’d be amazing,” Minseok said encouragingly, and Jongdae let a small smile grace his lips.

“I guess I’m just really nervous. Singing in front of so many people, I can’t imagine that. And I’ll have to dance as well, and all these things. I don’t know if I’ll be good at that, and I don’t want to disappoint my friend –she’s the female lead, you know- or the teacher.”

It felt good to talk to Minseok like this, especially with his eyes closed. Jongdae could almost fool himself that it was just like before, when Minseok was nothing more than his older, businessman boyfriend, and not his crime boss husband.

The older moved his right hand over Jongdae’s own, which had been resting on his stomach. He stroked over his fingers just as gently as he stroked his hair. He didn’t say anything, but his touch was comforting. Jongdae continued.

“My friend suggested that someone else play the lead, while I just do the singing. Like he could lip sync or something.”

“That sounds like a good idea, if it doesn’t bother you. Maybe you could have a smaller role, and still sing the main parts? Or play the piano? I wouldn’t want someone else to take credit for your talent.”

Jongdae smiled then, a happy, toothy grin, because this was one of the things about Minseok that made him fall in love with him in the first place. The way he always asked for Jongdae’s opinion, the way he always made him feel important, appreciated, loved even. It was something new, something he’d never felt before he’d met him. The butterflies he had each time Minseok complimented him made Jongdae feel as if he were flying, made his body light and his mind fuzzy. It was silly, but it was a feeling he didn’t know he’d missed until he finally got it.

He almost regretted being so cold to the other for the past weeks, but he shoved that thought to the back of his mind. Just like Wendy said, he had reasons to be mad.

Minseok squeezed his hand, probably still watching him carefully. Jongdae could imagine there was a smile on his face as well.

“I think it’s a good idea. I’ll have to talk to the teacher about it. I hope he agrees, though,” he trailed off, already dreading the glare Mr. Do would throw his way at the suggestion.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Jongdae hummed as Minseok scratched gently over his scalp. He had to fight off the shiver threatening to run down his spine. “He really wants me to be the lead. He even asked my friend to convince me, and he rejected a lot of students from the theatre department that wanted the part, even though I said no a few times.”

The fingers running through his hair stopped abruptly, and the hand stoking his suddenly tightened its grasp. Jongdae frowned, but kept his eyes shut.

“Minseok?” he asked cautiously, not knowing what made the previous warm atmosphere drop so quickly.

“Say, this teacher of yours,” Minseok started combing his fingers through Jongdae’s hair again, a little more stiff this time. His voice was not as soothing anymore, either. “What is he like?”

Jongdae gulped. He now understood the other’s sudden mood change. “Umm, he’s nice.”

Minseok hummed, resuming his stroking over Jongdae’s hand. He made a mental note to check on whoever was in charge of that musical, just in case. He already had a list of all of Jongdae’s professors, so finding this one should be easy. But that was something he’d rather not share with his spouse. Especially not when the younger seemed more at ease now than previously.

They spent more moments in silence. It felt nice, almost surreal. After so many weeks of Jongdae being hostile towards him, Minseok was more than grateful for the change of pace. In the silence of the living room, with him holding the other’s hand and stroking his lovely hair, he couldn’t keep him thoughts from going back to the meeting earlier that day.

He remembered Kris telling him to get Jongdae to identify the man that has been watching him. Might as well tell him now, because who knew when he’d get the other so willing to talk and spend time with him without being forced to?

“Dae?” he said softly, just in case the younger had fallen asleep under Minseok’s touches. Thankfully, the other was very much awake.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think you can recognize that man that’s been watching you during your classes?” he asked bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush with this matter. He’d gathered so far that Jongdae was probably not the biggest supporter of his profession, but considering his younger spouse had cried two nights in a row over this issue, Minseok reckoned he’d deal with the consequences when the time came. After all, keeping Jongdae safe was his top priority. Everything else could wait.

The younger frowned, and finally opened his eyes to look at him questioningly. Minseok kept stroking his hair. “I guess? Why?”

“I want you to point him out to me.”

“How would I do that?” he asked, looking adorably confused.

“I’ll get the footage from one of the security cameras at your college. We’ll play it, you point him out, and I’ll handle the rest.” He explained calmly, watching how his love’s expression turn from one of confusion to one of startled understanding.

He got up from his back, and settled towards Minseok. The older already missed having those soft strands of hair through his fingers, or that warm hand in his.

“What? Why?”

“You were so scared when you told me of him. I just want to make sure it’s not someone that will hurt you.”

His explanation didn’t calm the younger down, as he’d hope. It seemed to make him more unsettled.

“What will you do to him?” he asked with wide eyes, regarding Minseok with caution. Minseok didn’t like being on the receiving end of that look.

“I’ll just ask him some things. Please don’t worry, I won’t hurt him.” he said smiling, hoping it would reassure Jongdae. It didn’t matter whether it was a lie or not. Explaining the whole debacle with Baekhyun and his death to Jongdae was not something Minseok was looking forward to, and unless the younger absolutely needed to know, he intended to keep it a relative secret.

His husband didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nodded and forced a smile nonetheless. Minseok reached and held his hands in one of his own, smiling softly at his love. Just when he was about to ask the younger if he’d join him for dinner, Jongdae spoke first.

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

Minseok blinked. His darling sure was full of surprises today. “I’m never too busy for you. Why?”

The younger took in a deep breath, and looked at Minseok from underneath his lashes. He briefly wondered if Jongdae knew the effect he had on him.

“I was thinking we could spend the day together, since today you were busy…”

Minseok’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe his ears. Jongdae was asking him if they could spend the day together! Minseok’s happiness was short lived, however, because the thought that maybe Jongdae was suggesting this because he was afraid Minseok would get angry at him came to mind. That was definitely something he’d need to get out of Jongdae’s pretty little head.

“I’d love to. But you don’t have to force yourself if that’s not what you want. If you’d rather spend time alone, or have us stay in the house, that is alright too. You can tell me, I won’t be mad at all.”

His husband looked taken aback by Minseok’s answer, so he elaborated. “I know things have been… difficult for you.”The words felt like poison in his mouth, but he went on. “I understand, and I’m very sorry to have put you in such a position. But the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable around me, so it’s alright if you don’t want to spend too much time together.” he most definitely didn’t like it, but he could understand the reason.

He remembered then how both Yixing and Luhan urged him to woo Jongdae again, to pursue him with gifts and such, and while he planned to put that advice to good use, he’d rather his husband come to him at his own pace. Slow seduction was as good as any other method, after all. Minseok thought he could bear seeing him happy from a distance, as long as he was the one bringing Jongdae that happiness.

The younger smiled sheepishly at him though, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a little… well, a lot distant with you.”

Minseok shook his head. He didn’t like hearing Jongdae apologize for something he wasn’t at fault for. “You don’t need to be sorry. I understand-“

“But still,” Jongdae cut him off. “I still feel bad. And I want us to… get along like we used to before, you know?”

Minseok’s heart was soaring with happiness. He was glad to know his love still cared for him.

“I really think we should talk. There’s a lot of things for us to talk about.” He looked up, his eyes fixed on Minseok’s own. “I’m not asking you because I think you’ll be mad at me,” his voice wavered, and Jongdae really hoped the older wouldn’t notice it.

“I could never get mad at you, no matter what you did,” he confessed, and Jongdae smiled weakly. Minseok might be saying that now, but he wasn’t sure for how long the older could keep his temper in check. “If you want, we can go out tomorrow, sure. We can do whatever you want. You have any ideas?”

Jongdae shook his head. “You decide. I’m alright with whatever.”

Seeing the older smile so brightly made him smile as well. It was almost unreal, seeing Minseok get so happy over something as trivial as him admitting to wanting to spend time together. For someone that could have whatever they wanted, he sure got overly joyful over small things.

Minseok was watching him with such a tender gaze, his eyes big and so intense that Jongdae had to look away. He could feel himself squirming under his stare, and that made him flush in embarrassment. He only looked up again when the older cupped his cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?’ Minseok asked in that soft voice of his. Jongdae forced out a smile, and nodded. He could swear the other’s eyes lightened up.

The kiss was gentle, sweet and unhurried, as if Minseok wanted to taste his lips for as long as he could. Jongdae responded, albeit a little reluctantly. The older didn’t seem to mind, content with taking control of their small kiss.

When they separated, Minseok looked the happiest Jongdae had seen him since they got married. He almost wondered if the other would start crying.

“I love you,” he said, his voice genuine, his eyes wide and sincere.

Jongdae smile shyly, not knowing how to respond. He leaned into Minseok, the older immediately welcoming him into his arms. He rested his head on his shoulder, and the fingers returned to languidly stroke though his hair again.

 

*

 

The soft breath on his collarbone, the soft skin under his hands, the soft hair draped over his naked chest. Yixing couldn’t focus on any of these things.

He looked down at the sleeping Dr. Song. Even in the dark, he could see the lovely features of her face, the delicate curve of her back. The light from outside her window illuminated her face beautifully. If he concentrated enough, he could still hear her breathy moans, her sweet voice, could still feel her smooth skin under his hands.

And yet, all these things made him feel nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.

He carefully disentangled himself from her limbs, and moved from underneath the sheets. He looked on the floor for his underwear, slipping them on quickly. He didn’t bother with anything else.

Strolling softly along Dr. Song’s bedroom floor, he reached towards the window. He opened it to let the fresh air inside the slightly humid room. On the little bedside table, next to an ashtray, was placed Qian’s pack of cigarettes. She smoked very rarely, only after particularly tiring and draining days, or extremely passionate nights. She lightened one up after their first round, and laughed when Yixing reprimanded her.

He reached for the pack, and got out one cigarette. The lighter was next, the little flame illuminating the dark, quiet room. Yixing abhorred smoking, but he had to admit it was a good way of clearing out one’s head. And Yixing had a lot on his mind.

He was confused by his own thoughts that evening. Since he’d arrived at Dr. Song’s apartment, there was only one thing occupying his mind. When he had dinner with her, when he’d laughed at her jokes, when they kissed , when she pushed him onto the bed, when he’d taken off her clothes, even when he’d thrust up into her, and listened to her cries of pleasure, there was only one thing he thought of. One person, rather.

Perhaps he’d understand it more if his mind went back to Baekhyun and his mysterious death. After all, Baekhyun had been one of his lovers, one of his friends even, and his murder had brought nothing but trouble and misfortune. Not to mention that just a few hours ago he’d discussed it one of his close friends, as well as with a trusted associate. It would make sense if his mind went back to Baekhyun.

Instead, Yixing found his thoughts wondering towards Chanyeol’s driver. Taking a long drag of the cigarette, he let the smoke cloud up his lungs fully before he released it, watching it coil before dissipating into the night’s cold air.

Saying he was confused would be an understatement. Yixing knew people, he’d spent most of his life observing and studying them, inside and out. He understood people, he knew people. Therefore, he knew himself.

But now, it felt like he didn’t know anything. It was like someone had taken control over his mind and clouded it with images of the young man he’d only met earlier that day.

_Kim Jongin_

Yixing remembered his name. He didn’t have the best memory, tending to forget faces and names rather quickly. But this one, this Kim Jongin he remembered. He remembered his eyes, his deep, honeyed voice, his warm hands. Most of all, he remembered that face, the one he’d spent so long observing, to the point where he was sure the boy must have been uncomfortable. But he just couldn’t not look, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the driver’s profile.

It was strange, indeed. It was even stranger to think of his gentle eyes when he was looking at Dr. Song, or to think of his pouty lips while kissing her.

He wasn’t a prudish or shy person by any means; quite the opposite. He took no shame in enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, and looking for them whenever he craved it. He’d taken several lovers before, and there were few things one could suggest in the bedroom that would make him uncomfortable, or that he hadn’t already tried. But even _he_ had to admit that thinking of someone he’d met only a few hours prior, and barely spoke a few words to, in such indecent ways as the one’s he’d been imagining, was a little disturbing.

And yet, he couldn’t help it. Yixing was a mere passenger in his mind, a mere spectator to the images his brain was throwing at him.

He took the last few drags of the cigarette. One thing he was sure of; he wanted to know more about this Kim Jongin. His curiosity was the biggest thing that pushed him to act, and he found Kim Jongin nothing sort of intriguing.

There were few things in life Yixing wanted or craved for. He was rather modest, and easily pleased. So when he truly did long for something he tended to do all he could to get.

It wouldn’t hurt to look into this Kim Jongin, he reckoned as he put out the cigarette in the ashtray. He’d have to be a little sneaky so Chanyeol won’t find out, since he seemed very protective of the boy. But his good friend had a lot of other things in his mind. He couldn’t possibly worry about what his driver was up to all the time.

Walking back towards the bed, and slipping under the blankets next to Dr. Songs warm, naked body, Yixing had his mind made up. He snuggled closer to her warmth, and hoped Jongin liked flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I definitely enjoyed writing it a lot.
> 
> Now let's talk updates. Exam session is starting, so I don't know when I'll be able to write (I do have stuff written in advance, but not for the following chapter, unfortunately). It could go two ways, really. Either I'll write a lot to destress, or I won't feel like doing anything other than dying. But after the exam session, I'm all free, so I'll try to get back to a 2 week schedule.
> 
> Also, I kinda want to change the summary, cause I'm not really happy with it at the moment. We'll see, though opinions are welcome as always!! 
> 
> Next chapter, we get more xiuchen, and chansoo are back together too, yay! Please look forward to it!! ^^


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, long time no see! This is the second chapter that comes out later, and I'm very sorry about that. I don't personally like it when authors apologise for updating late, but I truly am sorry that this chapter came out more 2 months after the previous one. 
> 
> Anyways, what's done is done, so here is the new chapter! This one was a bitch to write, and I'm still not too happy with it, but I wanted to get it out of the way so I can write the future scenes. So I hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> Also, this chapter we finally get our E rating, yay!

Minseok sipped his coffee from the paper cup, the hot liquid being especially enjoyable in the cold November morning. It was his third coffee for that day, and it wasn’t even 8 a.m. yet.

The first one he drank just after he’d woken up, at around 5 a.m. He quickly turned off his alarm and disentangled himself from Jongdae and his warmth with reluctance, before stopping by the kitchen and making himself some coffee. Afterwards, he made Jaehyun stop on the way to the music store for another coffee, and the current one was grabbed on the way back to his apartment.

Currently, he was watching the men Chanyeol brought from god-knows-where unload the piano he’d bought for Jongdae. The reason he woke up at 5 was to be able to buy it, transport it, and settle it before his darling husband woke up. He felt rather sorry for dragging Chanyeol along with him, but he’d make it up to his younger friend when his birthday rolled around.

He wanted to make a nice impression on Jongdae, and after last night’s events, he felt very confident in himself and his gift. Jongdae’s kisses and his warm touches gave Minseok an immense amount of hope for rekindling their relationship. He planned their day to the last detail, and he would make sure things ran as smoothly as they should.

He’d worn his nicest suit, the one he had on when he and Jongdae got married, and his most expensive coat over it. His shoes were nice and polished, his hair in place, his wedding ring on his finger, and a large smile on his lips. He was in a great mood despite waking up early and now waiting in the cold, especially as he watched the men slowly unloading the piano from the truck. He could already imagine Jongdae sitting and playing at it, and that only lifted his spirits more.

Chanyeol had gone back home after he’d helped Minseok pick out the piano, leaving him with one of his men that Minseok couldn’t remember the name of, and some low end people in their organization. He watched with shining eyes as they moved the piano slowly towards his apartment building. The street was quiet and deserted as usual, the sky still darkened, for which Minseok was grateful. It made the whole ordeal much easier to execute.

“Watch it!” Chanyeol’s man-in-charge exclaimed when one of the henchmen’s fingers slipped over the edge of the piano. Minseok’s attention was immediately on them.

“Careful with it,” he said softly, sipping his warm coffee. “Make sure there’s not one scratch on it,” he continued.

The men gave a quiet, collective ‘yes sir’, gripping the edge of the instrument with enough power so they wouldn’t drop it. Minseok happily drank more coffee, thinking of the look of surprise on Jongdae’s gorgeous face. Would his husband hug him in happiness? Or would he feel overwhelmed and blush prettily? Minseok couldn’t wait to find out.

“Tsk, not one fucking scratch on it… can you believe this?”someone said. The words were hushed and quiet, but Minseok heard them just fine, and they cut through his good mood like a knife. He tightened his fingers around the paper cup, and pretended he didn’t hear anything. Getting angry over something so meaningless was not worth it.

The men continued to talk, quieter now, but some words still reached Minseok’s ears. He could make up some of the words, and he most likely did not like what he heard.

A hushed chorus of _“Man, just do the job and shut it…”_ , and _“You’re gonna get us all in trouble… you know who he is?”_ could be heard. Minseok tried to ignore them. He’d planned the day to the last detail; he could not afford to mess anything up because of a few misplaced words from people whose opinions didn’t matter.

“How can you keep quiet? Making us carry this whole things up the stairs for a few coins, and all for his boy-toy-“

Minseok stopped mid sip, the coffee suddenly tasting like dirt in his mouth. He swallowed it anyway, and willed his anger down. His day was supposed to go well; the damned piano was supposed to be moved in with no trouble, Jongdae was supposed to see it and be happy, they were supposed to spend the day together. _This_ was not supposed to happen. Minseok was not supposed to get so angry.

He turned his attention towards the men still holding the wrapped instrument. He really wished he’d listened to the guy from the music store and let them transport it and carry it up the stairs. The henchmen glanced at him fearfully, realizing all too late that he could hear their conversation.

“You there,” he called to the one that dared talk that way about Jongdae. He was taller than Minseok, and looked as if he’d just seen a ghost. “Come forward.”

He watched the man’s eyes widen. He stood frozen for a while, only moving when he realized Minseok’s expression had not changed.

“Sir, please, I didn’t mean-“

“Jaehyun, hold this,” he said, handing the paper cup to his faithful driver, who looked just as pale as the henchman Minseok was about to put into place.

“Sir, please, I’m really sorry, I-I shouldn’t have said that, a-any of that, please-“ the man started muttering, and Minseok’s patience was starting to run thin.

He looked around the alley, all those present watching him anxiously. His eyes settled on an old steel pipe with a rusty faucet attached to it. He walked towards it, and bent down to pick it up. The metal was cold in his hand, the steel heavy and unforgiving.

When he turned around, he greedily took in the look of terror that had settled over the henchman’s face. As soon as Minseok started advancing towards him with small but steady steps, he fell to his knees. Pathetic.

“Mr. Kim, I beg you, I didn’t mean anything I said, sir, please-“

Tears were beginning to flood up his eyes. Minseok watched with cold distaste. He didn’t like these sorts of men, the cowards that could only talk behinds others’ backs, but in the face of danger turned into frightened little animals. Dogs that were all bark and no bite.

“Not so brave now, are you? Where did all that bravado go?” he asked the man, staring down at him. Minseok was not a tall person, so he took extra pleasure in seeing men physically bigger than him cower at his feet.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Kim, so, so sorry! Please sir, I have a family, I didn’t mean to upset you-“

Minseok raised the steel pipe, grabbing it with both hands. “Anything else you’d like to say?”

The man’s breathing turned from erratic to hectic, his face white with fear. Minseok had to fight off the satisfied grin that threatened to spread over his features.

“Mr. Kim, sir, I didn’t mean to insult your husband! Sir, _please_ , I have a daughter, and a wife-!“

“Then you should have thought of them before you opened your mouth.”

“Sir, please, no-!” Minseok graced the man with a grin before he swung the pipe down, the faucet hitting him on the side of the head.

The man fell down with a cry. Minseok was disappointed as he watched him curl up on the pavement. All from one hit.

He nudged the man’s face with the now bloody faucet. “Get up; what kind of man are you? Can’t even take a beating with dignity,”

The henchman turned his face up towards Minseok, tears and blood and sweat meeting over his terror-stricken face. “Sir, please-“ he started, but Minseok interrupted him with an annoyed sigh.

“Enough with the begging already,” and with that he raised the pipe one more time, before bringing it down over the man’s body.

He struck towards the man’s shoulder first, attempting to get the other to stand up. When he didn’t succeed, he started hitting harder. The cold, darkened alley now had a symphony of cries and wails.

Minseok’s hits gradually went from the man’s shoulder and back towards his head, and now he was merciless. His strikes got more powerful, the pipe coming down harder and harder with each hit. Soon enough, the cries stopped altogether, and all that could be heard in the alley was the sound of steel hitting flesh, then bone, then tissue. Minseok did not stop until the steel hit the pavement underneath.

He straightened his back, and looked down at the mess of a corpse at his feet. He then raised his head to see the rest of the henchmen, some regarding him with fearful eyes, others avoiding his gaze entirely.

“Any other complains and thoughts anyone wanted to share?”

When he was greeted with nothing but silence, he spoke again.

“Then finish your job,” he threw the bloodied pipe down, the sound effectively making all the henchmen flinch. “And not one fucking scratch on it.”

The men nodded, but Minseok did not bother to continue watching them. He knew they would obey now.

He walked back, avoiding the pool of blood on the ground. He looked at Chanyeol’s man-in-charge, and pointed towards the bloodied corpse on the pavement. “Take care of this mess.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied simply, throwing a black body bag over the corpse. He then moved to make a phone call, to the cleanup team, Minseok assumed.

Jaehyun looked at him with startled eyes, but handed Minseok a tissue to clean himself. He could feel a several specks of blood on his face.

“Sir, your suit,” Jaehyun reluctantly said as Minseok was trying to wipe all the blood in the car’s wing mirror. When he was done, he looked at his coat, and had to grit his teeth to stop himself from screaming. If he hadn’t already killed that man, he surely would’ve now.

“God fucking damn it,” he groaned. How was he supposed to impress Jongdae now?

“I think it’s only your coat and your shoes, sir…” Jaehyun stated. Minseok looked into the wing mirror to make sure the white collar of his dress shirt was spot free. He then checked the cuffs. Satisfied, he took off the coat, and threw it at his driver, who thankfully caught it even with the paper coffee cup still in his shaking grip.

“Get rid of it. Burn it.” Blood stains were a bitch to clean out. He raised his foot and rested it on the side of the car, wiping the blood off of his shoe, then doing the same for the other one.

He could see a few stains near the hem of his pants. Thankfully, his suit was all black, so they weren’t too noticeable. He was confident Jongdae would probably not see then, and even if he did, Minseok could play it off as mud or something.

The cleanup team arrived after a few minutes, and Chanyeol’s man-in-charge gave him a smile and a nod. Minseok returned the smile, and instructed Jaehyun to tip the man when the whole ordeal would be done. With a final word to his driver to text him when everything was taken care of, he walked towards his apartment building.

The henchmen were struggling with the piano up the stairs, and Minseok found it rather entertaining. They let him pass, then continued to carry the instrument with care. He could see them being on edge after what they had just witnessed, and was wickedly pleased.

When they reached Minseok’s apartment, he told them “Try to be quiet, he’s sleeping.” He chose to ignore the worried looks on the men’s faces.

He watched like a hawk as they tried to bring the piano through his front door, and contemplated making them take off their shoes before coming in, but brushed that idea away. He wasn’t usually a cruel boss; quite the opposite. Luhan often said he was too soft on their subordinates, but Minseok liked to think of himself as quietly commanding. Still, from time to time, ruthlessness proved very useful.

The men were talking about which way would be better to make sure the piano got in without issue, and Minseok didn’t bother to tell them to be quiet. His nerves and anger were sated, and he was sure the poor henchmen already had enough. He would have to pay them extra to keep their mouths shut anyway.

After a few moments, they managed to get it inside the apartment. They looked at Minseok for further instructions, before their faces froze. Minseok was confused by their reaction, until he heard the small voice behind him.

“Umm, Minseok?”

Jongdae stood in the middle of the living room, still clad I his sleeping shorts and shirt, looking around in confusion. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. “What is going on?”

The older grinned widely at him. “Jongdae! Good morning,” he said walking toward him, his hands immediately clasping Jongdae’s.

 “Morning,” he responded softly, looking towards the henchmen and the piano with curiosity.

“Sorry if we woke you up, baby” Minseok said, slightly pouting. His eyes were shining with happiness. “I hope you’re not upset about that…”

Jongdae was even more confused by the words, and seeing the henchmen’s faces turn pale only added to his puzzlement. “It’s alright,” he could see some of the men visibly relax at his words. He tried not to dwell on it. “Umm, what’s… this?” he asked reluctantly.

Minseok seemed only too happy to answer him. “It’s a gift, love. For you,” he answered in a soft tone.

“For me?”

“Yes!” at Jongdae’s continuous confused expression, he elaborated. “You love playing the piano, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah…”

“And, now you can play it whenever you wish!” he said with a wide grin, his excitement, unfortunately, not mirrored by his young husband.

Jongdae stayed quiet, feeling very out of place, dressed in his pajamas in front of Minseok, who was clad in a suit. The stares of the men behind the older weren’t helping in lessening his nerves.

“You don’t like it?” Minseok asked, his voice not hiding his disappointment. Jongdae quickly reassured him.

“No, no! I mean, yes, I like it. I just…” Jongdae looked down at their clasped hands, willing a shy smile over his lips. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to say…”

Minseok visibly relaxed, beaming at his timid husband. With a soft touch underneath his chin, Minseok raised Jongdae’s face to his. “You don’t have to say anything. As long as you like it, that’s enough for me.”

Jongdae smiled wider, despite feeling very uneasy, almost cornered by Minseok’s gaze. He was slightly taller than the older, but he’d always felt tiny under his intense eyes. “Thank you,” the hand Minseok was still clasping in his own was almost burning, while the one he’d let go of might as well be frozen cold. “I really appreciate it,”

“Then I’m glad. Now, where do you want it?” Minseok asked, all previous tension now gone. “I was thinking of setting it there, in the living room,” he said gesturing to the empty corner of the room, “but I’m sure they can put it wherever you like.” He finished with a smile, the men behind him looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Umm, no, there it’s alright,” Jongdae replied, the relief washing over the men’s faces not going unnoticed by him. He wondered why they were so on edge around him. He wondered what the people involved in Minseok’s business thought of him.

Minseok gestured for them to get back to work, barely sparing them a look.

“Did we really wake you up?” he asked Jongdae. His plan was for the younger to wake up and see the piano already in place, not for him to wake up when they were just moving it. Whatever anger Minseok would have felt in that situation was dimmed down, however, when his darling smiled at him, lips curling up at the ends.

“It’s alright, really. Please don’t be upset with them, it’s not their fault.” Minseok wanted nothing more than to kiss him then.

“Fine. But just because you said so,” he replied, his tone jovial and joking, despite there being nothing but truth in his words. Jongdae laughed too, a crystal clear sound that warmed Minseok’s heart. He’d missed hearing it so much.

“How about I make you some coffee or tea while you dress up, hmm? Then we can go have breakfast somewhere,” Minseok said, smiling at Jongdae’s confused expression.

“We’re going out for breakfast?”

“Yes! I mean, unless you want to stay in, of course. But I was thinking it’d be nice to go out,”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go wash up and get dressed then,” Jongdae replied, relaxed and content, and Minseok couldn’t be happier. “Can you make me some coffee, though? A cappuccino or something?” he asked sweetly, fixing Minseok with a hopeful grin.

The older’s heart was about to jump out of his chest. “Of course, baby. Go get dressed,”

The second Jongdae walked away, Minseok could feel his composure withering. The men were now struggling with unwrapping the instrument, so Minseok quickly busied himself in the kitchen by making Jongdae his cappuccino. Jaehyun texted him soon afterwards that the mess was all taken care of, and that Minseok could come out whenever he wished. He told his driver to make sure the men were paid extra for their silence, and that he had the rest of the day off. His poor driver had seen enough in one day.

From the moment the henchmen were done, to the moment they finally gathered the courage to come tell him, Minseok had to stifle his amused smirk. One of them sacrificed himself and came to look for Minsoek in the kitchen, and told him between stutters that they had finished their work.

He dismissed them then, not before expressing his gratitude with a soft smile. The henchmen looked surprised and uncomfortable by Minseok’s mood changes, but left quickly, each of them bowing before exiting the apartment.

 By the time Jongdae was washed up and dressed, Minseok was on his forth cup of coffee, a cappuccino like the one that was awaiting his husband. He though to perhaps cut off on the caffeine soon.

They left the apartment soon after, Minseok in a new coat, of course. The alley was clean and calm now, now man or specs of blood in sight. The drive to Minseok’s restaurant was silent, save for the songs from the radio and Jongdae’s quiet hum.

Once they arrived and were seated at a table, Minseok realized just how awkward and tense the whole atmosphere between them was. This was the first time him and Jongdae went out together since they married.

Conversation came easily, albeit a little awkwardly. Soon enough though, Minseok had Jongdae talking happily about his classes and how excited he was to try his new piano when they got home. He was just in the middle of listing down all the pieces he’d like to try, when he stopped abruptly.

“Minseok, what’s that on your pants? Those stains, near the bottom?” he asked, pointing towards Minseok’s legs.

The older made a show of looking at his pants, before he just smiled, and waved the question off. “Ah, I must have stepped in some mud or something this morning. Don’t worry, I’m sure the dry cleaner will get them out,” Jongdae didn’t look too convinced, so Minseok quickly changed the topic. “You said last night that we should talk,”

“Yeah, umm…” the younger trailed off, his eyes looking everywhere but at Minseok. “I don’t know how to start, though,”

“I want you to know that everything I told you was the truth,” Minseok began. He might as well take responsibility; it _was_ his fault, after all. His gaze was fixed on Jongdae, his young husband sporting an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. “I never lied to you about my feelings,” he added, “I truly love you, a lot. And I know I should’ve told you the truth sooner,” Jongdae’s face remained hard to read, but Minseok could see the sorrow in his eyes. He hated that he couldn’t express himself better. “I’m sorry; but I do want to make it up to you,”

“That’s why you got me a piano?” the younger asked, disappointment laced in his gorgeous voice.

“I would’ve gotten it for you regardless,” Minseok clarified, “But now it seemed like a good opportunity.” He smiled, hoping it would be mirrored on Jongdae’s pretty lips. No such luck, unfortunately.

“I really want things to work out between us, Dae.”

“I do too. But…” he stopped again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, not finding his words. Minseok waited for him patiently.

“How can I trust you again after that, Minseok?” he said finally, his voice a little harsher than he intended. As much as Jongdae’s brain was yelling at him to calm down, to be nicer to Minseok, he couldn’t comply. He had too many bottled up emotions. “You _lied,_ and about something so serious, like- will I even be safe now?”

“Of course, baby” the older reassured him immediately, voice soft and calm like always. “I will do anything to keep you safe, _never_ doubt that-“

“But then I’m just a liability for you!” Jongdae interrupted, his voice raised slightly.

Minseok reached across the table, his hand settling over Jongdae’s. He gave it a light squeeze. “You are not, Dae. You are my husband; I said nothing bad will happen to you, and I mean it. You don’t need to worry, baby.”

Jongdae was quiet after that. His eyes were avoiding Minseok’s, but he didn’t remove his hand. The silence between them was becoming uncomfortable, the tension almost palpable, and Minseok was beginning to regret ever binging up the subject.

“I still don’t know if I can trust you again, Minseok. At least not yet,” he finally said, meeting Minseok’s eyes for only a second before looking down again.

He grabbed Jongdae’s hand, and brought it to his lips, laying a kiss on the knuckles. Jongdae raised his head to look at him, equal parts confused and startled, as if he didn’t know what to make of his reaction. Minseok smiled brightly at him, still holding his hand.

“Then I will work extra hard to gain your trust back.” When Jongdae finally forced a small grin back, Minseok added “Now, finish your breakfast, so we can go on with our day. There’s other things I have planned.” Jongdae’s smile widened, and now it looked more genuine.

They finished their breakfast while still holding hands. He suspected Jongdae was too nervous to remove his hand, but Minseok was more than happy to have any sort of physical contact with his young husband. The fact that it was possibly unwilling did not bother him as much as it should have.

 

*

 

“Stop moving, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo muttered as he moved the dyeing brush over Chanyeol’s dark roots. His nose was starting to itch, but he couldn’t scratch at it because of the dyeing gloves. His hands were starting to sweat, too.

“I’m sorry Soo, but my head is itchy,” the older complained, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He had to wake up at 5 that morning, and didn’t get any sleep since.

Kyungsoo sighed in fake annoyance, but flipped the dyeing brush to scratch at Chanyeol’s scalp with the sharp end. His boyfriend hummed happily, and Kyungsoo let a smile stretch over his lips. He’d fallen asleep last night before Chanyeol came home, and this morning the other was already gone by the time Kyungsoo woke up.

After his classes were done, Kyungsoo remembered wanting to dye Chanyeol’s darkening roots again, so he picked up the box of red hair dye from the store on his way back; his usual stalker still at his back, of course. The shadowy presence behind him reminded Kyungsoo of his reluctance to talk to his boyfriend about the two officers he heard the previous night at the bar. He reasoned he’d wait and see what Chanyeol’s mood was before deciding if he should tell the other or not.

So when he reached home and saw Chanyeol looking unusually tired, he thought he’d postpone it. They could talk about it tomorrow, or later tonight maybe. The last thing he wanted was to make Chanyeol even more stressed, especially when he looked so overworked. The tired grin he shot Kyungsoo when he saw him only made the younger more reluctant to share the new information. After all, it wasn’t like Kyungsoo had heard the two officers namedrop Chanyeol specifically or anything like that. He was sure tons of people knew about The Scorpions and have tried to catch them in the past anyway.

 Chanyeol enjoyed the soothing feeling of the cold dye on his head, smoothed by the brush over his scalp. It was very calming, almost as if Kyungsoo was stroking over his jumbled thoughts. Chanyeol had had enough time, that day and the previous one, to mull over Yixing’s words. He tried to convince himself that the reason he’s been so on edge recently was really because of all these bad things happening all at once.

He’d love to talk to Kyungsoo about his worries and mess of thoughts, but he wasn’t sure he should. Kyungsoo had been particularly cranky lately, most probably because of that musical he was working on, and Chanyeol didn’t want to worry him more by complaining. Moreover, after Minseok’s husband getting stalked and Junmyeon fainting (even though that might have been a very poorly timed coincidence), Chanyeol was very reluctant to drag Kyungsoo deeper into the criminal side of his life.

So Chanyeol decided to keep his worries and most of what happened within the organization to himself. Kyungsoo did not need any more problems in his life, and he most definitely did not need to be in harm’s way.

The only problem with his decision was that Chanyeol was a very bad liar most days, and an exceptionally bad liar in front of Kyungsoo. He felt horrible having to hide things and lie to his boyfriend, but he’d rather take the guilt than have anything bad happen to Kyungsoo.

The soft sound the brush made when swiping over his hair made Chanyeol drowsy. He was sure he’d fall asleep soon if he didn’t try to strike up some conversation with Kyungsoo.

“Soo, how was your day?” he asked softly, closing his eyes as to enjoy getting his hair dyed.

“Boring,” Kyungsoo answered simply, not really in the mood for talking. Of course, even when tired, Chanyeol could not keep his mouth shut.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night at the bar?” Chanyeol asked again. Kyungsoo’s hand stopped on the brush. He was glad he knew how to keep a good poker face.

“It was fine. Too many people.” He answered shortly, and resumed dyeing.

The older hummed. “Kun said you looked rather uncomfortable last night? Is everything alright?” he asked.

Well shit, Kyungsoo thought. Damn that kid. He wondered if perhaps Kun heard the two officers as well, and told Chanyeol about it. “I just had a bad day at work. I still don’t have a lead for my musical,” he answered.

Chanyeol felt bad for his boyfriend. He really hoped the musical would come out great; Kyungsoo deserved that. “If you need anything, tell me Soo. I’ll help you any way I can,” he said, raising his head and turning to look at the other.

Kyungsoo smiled, and forced Chanyeol’s head back into position. “Stop moving. And thank you, but I’m fine so far.” So Chanyeol didn’t know about the officers. Good.

“How was _your_ day? You had to get up so early, was there a problem?” Kyungsoo asked, hoping for a change of subject from his day to his boyfriend’s.

Chanyeol though, was not too happy about that. “No, no problem,” he said ( _lying,_ his treacherous mind supplied). “Minseok hyung needed help choosing a piano for his husband.”

“Hmm. I take it everything went well?”

“Umm, yeah,” aside from cleaning up a death and getting rid of the body. Chanyeol’s headache was coming back. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the brush over his scalp.

 “Was it a gift or something?” Chanyeol hummed in response. “Any occas-“ Chanyeol’s eyes snapped open in a second.

“I don’t know what’s the occasion, though!” he added quickly. He honestly didn’t know the occasion, but he didn’t trust his own mouth, and would rather not tell Kyungsoo that Minseok’s husband had a stalker that they were planning to take out. Or that Minseok killed a henchmen and it was a bitch to take care of.

“O…kay.” Kyungsoo replied confused. “How was the business last night? Is everything alright?” he asked instead.

Chanyeol was starting to sweat. _No, Kyungsoo,_ he wanted to say, _everything is not alright, we’re dealing with serious shit and I’m freaking out._ Instead, he cleared his throat and said “Umm, yeah, basically. Nothing too bad.”

“I saw Baekhyun’s death on the news,” Kyungsoo said absentmindedly while trying not to get dye on Chanyeol’s ears. “Did you guys find out who did it? Why are you shaking?”

“Uh, I’m cold, haha,” he replied with a small and hopefully believable laugh. He mentally patted himself on the back for the good excuse. Kyungsoo made him take his shirt off whenever he dyed his hair, so he wouldn’t get the shirts dirty anymore. “And no, uh, we still don’t know anything yet. But Kris hyung knows the guys that are working on the case, so everything is alright!” he exclaimed, trying to reassure his boyfriend.

Kyungsoo scooped up more red dye on the brush, and thought of the officers he’d heard talk last night. They talked briefly about Baekhyun, but Kyungsoo had concluded they were conducting a new, unofficial investigation on The Scorpions. Maybe he was wrong?

“Really? Yifan hyung knows them?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Actually, not really, he knows the guy they work for. I know him too; he’s cool.”

Kyungsoo hummed, and started working over the small strands of hair at Chanyeol’s nape. “And are you sure those officers are trustworthy?” If those two he’d heard last night were the ones in charge of Baekhyun’s murder case, maybe they were playing The Scorpions and this guy they worked for in order to uncover something. That thought was making Kyungsoo’s head spin. He was so distracted by that possibility that he didn’t watch where he was swiping the brush, and ended up with a long, red stripe down Chanyeol’s neck.

“Oh, definitely. Zico only works with those he trusts. These guys are apparently his childhood friends and stuff.” Chanyeol replied, not wondering why Kyungsoo was so interested. He guessed the other was just worried for his sake. That brought a large grin over is lips. “Zico said they’d close the case soon.”

Kyungsoo, however, was not convinced. “And why would this guy help you? Are you in business with him?”

Chanyeol shook his head, only to have Kyungsoo sharply push it back into place. “No, we’re not doing business with him. He’s helping us for a future favor.” Sensing the other was still skeptical, he tried to reassure him. “Everything will be fine,” he said, recalling Yixing’s words. “You don’t need to worry, Soo.” Chanyeol was already worrying enough for both of them.

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything in return, and did the finishing touches on his boyfriend’s dye job. Even though Chanyeol tried to hide it, Kyungsoo could see clearly he was stressed. He could see the tension in his shoulders, could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t telling him everything, and Kyungsoo was even more determined to keep the issue of the two officers away from him. Chanyeol did not need any more on his plate.

Kyungsoo took off his dyeing gloves. “You’re done. Wait 30 minutes then wash it out.”

“You’re the best, Soo!” Chanyeol turned around with his usual large grin, and Kyungsoo had to force himself from laughing at him. He looked rather funny, with his hair basically glued to his head, a few undyed strands sticking out, his big eyes and big smile and big ears calling attention everywhere on his face. Still, Kyungsoo didn’t laugh; Chanyeol hated his ears, so like a good boyfriend, Kyungsoo turned away to clean everything and smile without the other seeing him.

They busied themselves for the next 30 minutes, before Chanyeol went to wash out the red dye. In that time, Kyungsoo went over the matter of the two officers in his head several times. By that point, he’d agreed with himself not to tell Chanyeol anything about it unless something serious enough happened. If trying to protect Chanyeol by not telling him turned out o be a bad decision, Kyungsoo could always tell Yifan or Minseok or Luhan, he reasoned. After all, this would affect them just as much as it would Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo felt bad for lying, though. He was already lying by omission to Chanyeol by not telling him about his stalker/follower, and that had been eating at him since the beginning. Still, he could take the guilt if it means that Chanyeol would be just a tad bit less stressed. He tended to lose his hair when he was stressed, and all the dyeing was definitely not helping his poor scalp. The anti hair loss shampoo Kyungsoo got him could only do so much. Chanyeol was very expressive too, and Kyungsoo was sure he’d freak out if he got wrinkles.

In conclusion, keeping Chanyeol happy and stress free was what Kyungsoo had to do, and if it meant taking the matter of the two officers butting their heads where they shouldn’t, then so be it. Kyungsoo was ready to go till the ends of the earth to ensure Chanyeol was safe. It was that thought Kyungsoo had in mind when the door to the bathroom opened and Chanyeol came out.

In the shower, Chanyeol desperately tried to wash the dye out. All the red running down his body made him feel slightly uneasy, as it always did. He remembered that time he came home with an ugly stab wound in the left shoulder after a drug deal went south, and his poor Kyungsoo was over himself with worry, no matter how much Chanyeol reassured him and tried to smile through the pain while the shorter hugged him. He’d deemed Chanyeol unable to get out of bed for two days, and that memory brought a large smile on his face. Which was quickly washed away by the thought of Kyungsoo ever being in that situation.

Chanyeol almost fainted from the slight idea of Kyungsoo ever getting hurt in such a matter. The thought of Kyungsoo getting hurt, paired with the blood red liquid covering Chanyeol’s body was too much for his tired brain to handle. He quickly washed his hair, making sure to scrub himself down as well, and exited the shower quickly.

He tied a towel around his waist, and dried his hair with another one. While so, he looked into the mirror, the scar against his shoulder a reminder that his life was dangerous, that Kyungsoo could get hurt at any second just because he was close to him. His twisted, tired brain brought up the fact that there already were people in Kyungsoo’s situation that _have_ been hurt, Minseok’s husband and Junmyeon. How long until Kyungsoo was the one in their position? How long until Chanyeol got the call that his boyfriend fainted at school, or until Kyungsoo confessed that someone’s been stalking him as well?

All of this was making Chanyeol burn with rage. Kyungsoo was everything to him, he’d never let something happen to him; but the fact that it had happened to others was eating at him. The desire to protect the other, to shield him from harm was growing stronger by the second, and Chanyeol had to leave the bathroom before he ended up punching the mirror out of frustration.

As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, he was met with Kyungsoo’s large eyes, and something ignited inside Chanyeol. He felt like he was on fire. Kyungsoo took the towel off his head, his small hands threading through the freshly dyed strands. Looking down at Kyungsoo, at his beautiful eyes and plush lips, Chanyeol could feel himself getting hotter by the second, despite only having a towel on him.

“It came out really nice. I hope you like it,” he said, his voice raspier than he’d though it would be. Kyungsoo’s eyes settled over his, and Chanyeol was glad to see that fire in his beloved’s gaze as well.

“I do like it,” he muttered, his voice sweet, rich honey that dripped over Chanyeol, coating him in sugar.

Kyungsoo noticed his heated look, because Kyungsoo always noticed, because Kyungsoo knew him better than anyone, and raised himself onto his tiptoes, his lips approaching Chanyeol’s hungry mouth.

“Didn’t you say you had papers to grade?” he asked with a joking tone, and he could feel the other’s breath on his face. The fire inside Chanyeol was burning brighter by the second.

Kyungsoo smiled, easily unnoticeable by those that didn’t know him, but Chanyeol saw it; saw the small creases at the corner of his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips. Kyungsoo’s smile, only reserved for him, and Chanyeol wanted nothing more than to kiss it right off his beautiful face.

“You’ll help me later with them, I’m sure,” and with that he locked their lips together, and Chanyeol let his appetite run him.

He kissed the other deeply, his mouth devouring Kyungsoo’s. The shorter welcomed his tongue all too gladly, let it intertwine with his, brushed against it. He moaned when Chanyeol bit his lip, a sound that vibrated all the way through Chanyeol’s body, going straight to his cock.

They moved to the bedroom quickly, and fell on the bed, Kyungsoo’s body being pushed into the mattress by his boyfriend’s larger frame. He indulged into the feeling of Chanyeol’s body against his, the familiarity between them, the ease with which they moved. They’ve known each other for years, almost a decade; their bodies were more in sync than they thought possible.

Chanyeol moved from his lips to his jaw, his neck, his chest. Brushing his hands down his shoulders and back, Kyungsoo could feel the other’s skin burning, and soon enough his clothes became too uncomfortable, too hot. Chanyeol quickly rid him of his shirt, trailing kisses all the way from his collarbone to his chest, stopping at his nipples to lick over them greedily. His mouth was almost too warm, like hot wax dripping over his skin, and Kyungsoo couldn’t help the moan that ripped from his throat.

The older continued on his way, not lingering too much in one spot. He knew Kyungsoo’s body better than he knew his own by now, and that thought only made him burn hotter with desire, his lust accentuated by every fiery kiss upon his lover’s skin, by his tight grip upon Kyungsoo’s hips and thighs and whatever other part f him fell into Chanyeol’s hands.

He rid Kyungsoo of his pants and boxers quickly, throwing them behind with little care. Seeing the other underneath him, his legs open, his eyes wide and trusting, it only set Chanyeol more on fire, and his lips longed to be back on Kyungsoo’s skin. He settled for his stomach, leaving sloppy kisses and bite marks, before moving down lower. He only managed to get his lips on the tip of Kyungsoo’s cock before the younger pulled him by his hair back with a moan.

“You’re so hot,” he sighed into his mouth, kissing him again. Chanyeol was content with this as well, kissing him just as ravenously, running his hand down his back, his sides, his ass, his thighs, his cock. His hands left the other burning underneath him, gasping for breath.

Kyungsoo reached into the bedside drawer, grabbing the bottle of lube and passing it into Chanyeol’s awaiting palm. He didn’t part form the other’s mouth as the older prepared him, his fingers feeling familiar inside Kyungsoo. By the third one, kissing became too much of a struggle, and Kyungsoo parted from the fire of Chanyeol’s lips with a gasp for air. The other quickly complied and busied himself with his lover’s throat and collarbone instead.

When he entered him, Kyungsoo sighed his pleasure, arching his back and running his hands over the expanse of Chanyeol’s back, over his shoulders, over the scar that he’d come to both love and hate. It was a constant remind that Chanyeol’s life was dangerous, that it could all come crumbling down in a second. But also that his boyfriend was strong, that he couldn’t be taken down easily.

When his fingers lingered over the scarred spot, Chanyeol looked up at him, lust and fire in his gaze. He kissed him again, their lips moulding together like they were made to be one. He picked up the pace, thrusting up into the other with more force, Kyungsoo’s moans getting louder as well.

“I love you,” Chanyeol muttered against his lips, between kisses. “I love you so much,” he panted against his throat, against Kyungsoo’s pulse. “You’re everything to me,”

“Me too,” Kyungsoo managed, barely holding his breath after every thrust, especially when Chanyeol angled his hips just so- “Ah! Oh god, I love you too. So, so much,” he said stroking over the freshly dyed hair.

They moved in sync, like their bodies were made to be together, to be connected. Their breaths mixed together, their moans and groans were almost indistinguishable from one another. They reached their peak almost at the same time, Kyngsoo falling first with a loud moan on his lips, and Chanyeol following right after with words of love spilling from his mouth.

They lay together, enjoying the afterglow together. Chanyeol stroked down his lover’s back, the fire inside him finally sated, while Kyungsoo kept playing with his hair.

“You really like the color, huh?” he asked with a bright grin, and laughed when Kyungsoo tugged on his hair.

“Red suits you, what can I say?” he muttered softly, a smile streching over his lips.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy was this chapter a big mess, it's all over the place. I'm not too pleased with it, so I hope you'll forgive me if it sucks. In the original draft Minseok was supposed to kill that guy in front of Jongdae, but then I thought there was no waaay Jongdae would even talk to him after that. I still wanted to put that scene in tho, so I worked around that.
> 
> I really suck at writing smut, so any critiques and advices are highly welcome! Please be gentle ~ (see what I did there??)
> 
> Next chapter we spend more time with Junmyeon. I'll try to get it out as soon as I can, so please look forward to it!! ^^


	12. Chapter 12

Junmyeon could barely keep his eyes open he was so tired. He was currently sitting in Zitao’s car, the younger driving him home as he did every day. He would usually talk to his young bodyguard, but he’d barely said two words to the poor boy today, despite his clear disappointment at Junmyeon’s quietness.

It had been a very bad day for Junmyeon. Almost as bad as the one from before.

Yesterday night, after his one sided argument with Yifan, things only went downhill. Even if he could no longer ignore the obvious stain on their relationship, Junmyeon tried to be optimistic. However, when they were trying to eat dinner in awkward silence, sadness took over him, and while Junmyeon was starring at his plate of food, tears started filling up his eyes. Before long, they were running along his cheeks.

Junmyeon hadn’t even realized he’d started crying until Yifan got up from his chair and hurried to his side. His husband held his tear stained face in his large palms, and Junmyeon was stuck staring at Yifan’s worried face with glassy eyes. Each time he tried to wipe away Junmyeon’s tears, more trickled down in their place. Before long, Junmyeon was sobbing into the other’s chest.

After his breakdown Yifan had refused to leave his side for more than a phone call. Junmyeon was both grateful and upset by that, but he could admit that he’d rather be by Yifan’s side than alone.

At night, he couldn’t sleep. Half of it was a blur, a mixture between trying to fall into slumber, and trying not to cry. The other half was spent awake, unmoving besides Yifan’s unconscious body, attempting to will the image of Yuta’s smiling face out of his mind.

Since misery loves company, things only went downhill the following day. By then, the whole school had heard of his unexpected fainting, so whispers followed Junmyeon wherever he went.

During his first class, he couldn’t concentrate in the slightest. His eyes were threatening to slip shut. He was talking with little regard as to what he was saying, going almost on autopilot.

At one point, he found himself with a marker in hand, the black tip pressed onto the whiteboard. He must have been writing a sentence, he realized, and he’d stopped right in the middle of it. He couldn’t remember what he’d been writing for the life of him, and reading what he’d scribbled so far didn’t help at all. With his prolonged silence in front of the board, quiet giggles reached his ears.

Junmyeon had tried to play it off with an awkward laugh, but the stares of his pupils burning into the back of his head were not lessening. If his little black out was amusing to them the first time, their faces quickly darkened with worry after it’d happened again twice more.

A few classes later, and he’d stopped trying to act normal. He’d given the students something to read over, while he tried to get work done, only to end up starring into space again. It was the class Yuta used to be in, and Junmyeon didn’t know how he managed to keep his tears at bay when looking at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom.

Lunch break was just as horrible, if not worse. Minho and Changmin both fussed over him, which Junmyeon was grateful for, really, but he was just so _tired_ that their worry was only succeeding in making him more exhausted.

Seeing his dreary mood, they tried everything to make him feel better. Poor Minho went through all his jokes, but Junmyeon couldn’t respond with more than a small smile, maybe a barely-there laugh. Changmin tried to cheer him up with his usual sarcasm, but it was all in vain. Even the classic joke of _‘Haha, remember that time we cross-dressed for the fund rising in college? Wasn’t that so funny?’,_ which on a normal day would have made Junmyeon groan in embarrassment while the other laughed, didn’t manage to get more than a halfhearted chuckle out of him.

 The rest of his classes went by in a flash, and Junmyeon was more than glad it was Friday. He didn’t think he could take another day at work.

Sitting in the car by Zitao was proving to be just as tiring and stressful as the rest of his day. Junmyeon’s mind was filled with thoughts of his husband, his heart heavy with so many emotions, from disappointment to sorrow. He kept thinking of how his relationship with Yifan would evolve from now on, how it would change.

Junmyeon was a very tolerant person; he disliked conflicts and tried to make amends. He forgave but never forgot, which only made Yifan’s actions harder for Junmyeon to process. He knew in his heart that he couldn’t leave Yifan, that he didn’t _want_ to leave him, but how could he look into his eyes again and not think of how stained his hands were? How could he continue to love him, knowing the darkness that lay underneath the gentle and affectionate persona he had on when with Junmyeon?

It only made Junmyeon wonder; how much of what he saw of Yifan was his true self. He’d known the other since college, for almost a decade, but could you ever truly know a person? He’d never doubted Yifan’s personality until now, and it was only making Junmyeon more confused. Why was it just now that he started questioning everything?

The more he thought on the situation, the more frustrated he got. How could Yifan betray his trust like that again, after Junmyeon had specifically asked him not to? How could he, after Junmyeon had given up so much for him, after he’d chosen him over his family?

That particular line of thought only made him feel guilty, however. He wasn’t the only one that had to relinquish something for the sake of their relationship. After all, Yifan had given up on a lot too, like the chance of ever living in his home country.

Junmyeon looked down at his hands, touching the silver ring on his finger lightly. Yifan meant a lot to him, despite it all. He was his first boyfriend, his first love, his first lover. They understood each other even without words, their household was quiet and warm; Junmyeon wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he ever lost that.

 “Hyung?” Tao’s soft voice got his attention, pulling him out of his whirlpool of thoughts.

“Hmm?”

His younger bodyguard turned to him with a bright smile. Junmyeon realized they’ve stopped at a red light. “Do you want to go somewhere, hyung?”

“Go where?” he asked confused.

“Well, anywhere you want. We can go shopping, or go take a walk, maybe eat somewhere… really, whatever you want!”

Despite Tao’s excited tone, Junmyeon saw his smile faltering at the edges. He could almost hear Yifan words to the younger, _“Take him wherever he wants, do whatever to keep him happy.”_

“I’m fine, Tao. We can just go home,” he muttered, feeling drained. He could see from the corner of his eye the disappointment over the other’s face, and that only saddened his mood.

He gave a soft sight. Perhaps he was being too rough. There was no way to erase what has happened. What was done was done, and Junmyeon couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was try and make things better, try to mend what was already broken. He had faith in himself and in his love for Yifan, and knew in his heart that he would forgive the other eventually. Forgiveness would free him of his sorrow and gloom.

But for that, he needed to give Yifan a chance to prove himself, to prove that he was not the cruel man his actions would make one believe. Junmyeon knew he was a kind soul, and he had to let Yifan show him that.

Tao’s eyes were glued to the road when Junmyeon turned to look at him again. He should be kinder to him as well; the boy had no fault.

“Tao?”

The other raised an eyebrow in sign that he was listening. “Yes, hyung?”

“I think I changed my mind. Let’s go shopping after all,”

Junmyeon’s face relaxed into a smile at Tao’s obvious excitement. He could buy Tao something, the younger loved gifts. Perhaps Junmyeon could cook something too; there was a recipe Changmin told him about that he’d wanted to try for ages, but never got around to it.

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly afterwards. Junmyeon bought Zitao a new jacket and a new pair of shoes, and fully enjoyed the tight hug the other engulfed him in. Tao persuaded him to buy a sweater for himself as well, and Junmyeon, never being able to deny the younger anything, complied without a word. He’d never been as interested in fashion as his husband and young bodyguard seemed to be, but he could still appreciate nice things.

They went grocery shipping straight after, Tao attracting a little bit too much attention with his tall frame, blond hair, and usual white blazer. The younger pushed the cart while Junmyeon read the ingredients off his phone. Soon enough they were back in the car and on their way to Junmyeon’s apartment.

However, as soon as he stepped foot in, his good mood perished in a second. His fatigue came back, and the weight of his worries almost crushed him to the floor.

With a sheepish smile he looked at Tao pleadingly. He did not want to be alone in his house. The apartment felt so big and cold. “Taozi, do you know how to cook?”

 “Not too well, hyung. Why?”

Junmyeon beamed at the other. “Want me to teach you? I could use some help,”

“Ahh, I’m only going to be a bother for you, hyung. Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. The boy was always so sincere with his emotions. Junmyeon wondered half the time how such a kind young man ended up working for Yifan in the first place.

“You’re definitely not a bother, Taozi. Even if you can’t help me, your presence is more than welcome.” The younger finally smiled and nodded, going to take off his blazer and shoes.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was lively when they cooked. Junmyeon gave Tao some vegetables to slice up, the younger working with diligence and precision. The radio was blasting music, Junmyeon not being able to help himself from doing a few dance moves to some girl idol group, which made the younger giggle loudly. Junmyeon was glad to see him smile so brightly; Tao looked much younger without his suit blazer and with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

Halfway through, he realized he’d messed up, so he quickly called Changmin for further instructions while Tao tried to salvage whatever he could of the ruined vegetables. His friend guided him through the process until the food was safely in the oven, not leaving Junmyeon without a few taunts and friendly teases. They ended the call, Changmin telling him sweetly that he was glad Junmyeon was feeling better, and hanging up before the younger could say anything else.

When they were finally done, Junmyeon regarded Tao with a bright smile, which was quickly widened by a breathy laugh at the state of his younger charge. Tao’s pristine white shirt was now stained, almost everywhere. Even at the elbows and sleeves, which he’d rolled up precisely to avoid that.

“Hyung, stop laughing,” the younger whined and pouted at him, which Junmyeon found very adorable.

“I’m sorry Taozi, you just look so cute,” he managed to say through the giggles. “Give me the shirt, I’ll wash it.”

“No, hyung, don’t bother,” the younger was quick to deny him, but Junmyeon insisted.

“C’mon, I’ll give you one of Yifan’s shirts,” he gestured for the other to take off the shirt, to which the younger quietly complied.

To Junmyeon’s relief, Tao didn’t leave afterwards. Instead they spent their time chatting. It was relaxing, listening to the younger talk so freely about whatever, to see him so relaxed and at ease. Junmyeon felt like he could forget about his worries around him too. His fatigue that had plagued his entire morning was but a dull drowsy feeling now.

The front door opened soon after, effectively snapping Junmyeon’s attention from Zitao’s excited rant about his new crush. As soon as Yifan walked in, Junmyeon could feel the anxiety creeping from the tips of his fingers down his back. His husband greeted them, barely sketching a curious expression at Zitao’s presence at the kitchen table.

The younger looked at Junmyeon with his usual soft smile, before standing up, his height towering over him. “Hyung, I’ll be going now. Thank you for keeping me around,”

Junmyeon frowned, and quickly grabbed Tao’s wrist. “Taozi, at least stay for lunch; you helped cook it, after all.”

The boy looked hesitant for a moment. He looked at Yifan for permission, something Junmyeon pretended not to notice, before he gave him another one of those blinding smiles that made him seem younger than he was. “Alright, hyung, if you want. I’ll help you set up the table,”

The younger moved silently while he helped Junmyeon. They settled the table by the time Yifan came back, changed out of his tailored suit. Junmyeon and him sat one at each end f the table, Tao ending up at Junmyeon’s right.

The atmosphere was cold and tensioned. Yifan complimented them on the food, looking at Junmyeon over the table with pleading, worried eyes. He felt uneasy staring back at his husband, but managed a wobbly smile. He remembered his wish to be nicer to Yifan, to try and forgive him, but it was proving more difficult now that he was face to face with him.

Tao left right after he finished his food, and as soon as he was gone, so was the warm aura in the house. Junmyeon did his best to ignore it. It was all in his mind.

Yifan offered to wash the dishes and clean the table, and Junmyeon didn’t stop him. The tiredness that had been tormenting him the whole day came back tenfold, and he could barely stand on his own two feet anymore. As soon as he settled on the couch, he fell asleep. The last thing he remembered was Yifan maneuvering Junmyeon’s legs so they rested on his lap, and the warmth of his large hand over his socked foot.

 

*

 

He woke up a few hours later to a gentle shake of his shoulder. Yifan’s face hovered over him, his eyes soft and his mouth curved into a small smile. Junmyeon did not feel like he got any rest.

“Let’s go eat, Jun. Then you can go sleep in bed.”

They ate in relative silence, the noises from the radio coupled with the clutter of their chopsticks masking the otherwise dead quietness of the house. Junmyeon had a hard time concentrating on eating. He was so tired his eyes were threatening to fall out of their sockets. His dreamless sleep for the past few hours didn’t seem to help much, if at all. Now his body was aching all over from falling asleep on the couch, his worries from previously in the day returning to his exhausted mind.

He looked over the table at Yifan, who was thankfully too engrossed in something on his phone to notice Junmyeon’s stare. Again he wondered, just how much of what he knew of Yifan was the other’s true self? Had his own husband been fooling him for years? Had he been fooling himself?

Was Junmyeon living in a fantasy in his own head?

He quickly drove those thought away. He was being unreasonable, his current state driving his brain fabricate all kinds of theories he knew were silly. Junmyeon didn’t want anything more than quietness in his thoughts at this point.

He and Yifan cleaned the table together in continuous silence. From there, they both went to their bedroom to get ready for bed. Yifan looked burned out as well, something Junmyeon could attribute his quietness to.

They completed their usual routines in silence too, and before long they were both settled in bed. Junmyeon deactivated his 6 a.m. alarm with a contented sigh. He didn’t even do much today, but he couldn’t do it for another day for sure.

He couldn’t deny Yifan their usual good night kiss like he did the previous night, and his chest felt tighter at the other’s smile.

The blessed sleep that Junmyeon was hoping for, however, was not coming to him. Each time he managed to doze off, nightmares would claw at the edges of his mind, and soon enough he’d see Yuta’s smiling face under his closed eyelids. He’d wake up immediately then, and would be greeted with the darkness of the bedroom, the image still flickering in his vision.

He repeated that torturous cycle a few times during the night, to the point that Junmyeon was sure he was losing his wits. He looked at Yifan’s sleeping body, quite jealous of his husband’s slumber. Why did Junmyeon have to suffer for something that _he_ did? Even if he didn’t hurt Yuta, he still made the kid leave, taking all the remains of Junmyeon sanity with him.

The more he contemplated that it was Yifan’s fault for his inability to sleep, the worse he felt. The darkness of his thoughts was hurting him, making him feel bad. Yifan most definitely didn’t want this suffering for him, Junmyeon was sure of that much.

He managed to fall in and out of a dreamless sleep a few more times. He fought the urge to check his phone, in fear of actually seeing just how little he’d slept. He didn’t want a measurement over how troubled he was.

During one particular sleeping cycle, his dreams felt more real than before. Yuta’s smile was replaced by a terrified expression Junmyeon had never seen on his pupil’s face. It looked almost cartoonish, like a caricature of the boy’s expression. His eyes were impossibly large for any human, devoid of color and full of palpable fear.

They were starring into Junmyeon’s very soul. The boy had the normal school uniform on, in pristine condition and in stark contrast with his dreadfully scary face. The more Junmyeon had to look at him, the more unsettled he was.

Staring down over the other’s body, his eyes fell onto his neck, at the collar of his white shirt. It was no more the pristine white he’d seen, but instead now specs of blood covered it, so neatly placed that they seemed intentionally put there to torment him. Junmyeon jerked awake.

He gasped for air, quickly shoving the blanket down. The room was cold, but Junmyeon felt like sweating. He quickly looked at Yifan, glad to see he didn’t wake him up.

Junmyeon tried to calm his beating heart, allowing himself a small smile when he succeeded in calming down just a little. He spent what he thought were a few minutes just laying there and breathing, ignoring all the unwanted thoughts in his head.

Each time he blinked, each time his eyes closed, he would see his pupil’s face again; sometimes it was the scary caricature that frantically woke him up, while other times it was his usual, normal face Junmyeon had grown fond of.

He turned on his side, toward Yifan. His husband was sleeping on his back. Junmyeon kind of wished he was snoring too; it would have been a nice anchoring sound to reality. He tried to go to sleep again, only to be confronted with the images he’d rather not see again. He adjusted his pillow once, twice, three times. Tried to sleep again, only to get the same result.

He flipped onto his back then, starring at the black ceiling, willing his mind to empty, before he closed his eyes again. It was only more of the same.

Junmyeon was beginning to regret sleeping the afternoon off. Not only did he barely rest, but it was now making him unable to even try. He flipped onto his other side, his back now facing Yifan. He adjusted his pillow again, huffed when he couldn’t get it right, and almost screamed in frustration when he got tangled in the blanket.

Suddenly, a heavy arm settled over his waist. Junmyeon completely froze. He’d woken Yifan up.

“What’s with all the twisting and wiggling?” a raspy deep voice spoke into his ear.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Junmyeon whispered, cupping Yifan’s hand with his smaller one in sign of regret. “Go back to sleep,”

Yifan made a protesting sound, his hold over Junmyeon’s waist tightening, if only slightly. “Not until you do. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Junmyeon twisted around in the other’s hold, turning to finally look at him. He could barely see Yifan’s features in the dark, but he could make out his eyes. “It’s nothing, Yifan. Just sleep, you were tired.”

“You were, too,” came the response, said in the same deep tone. “And you even slept during the day, so you must have been very tired. Why can’t you sleep now? What’s troubling you?”

“It’s nothing, really-“

“Jun,” Yifan interrupted him, his voice sounding impossibly loud in the darkened room.

Junmyeon hesitated, looking at the other pleadingly. Yifan’s expression didn’t give anything away. “You’ll just get angry if I tell you. I don’t want to upset you, please just go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

His face softened. It was easily missed, but with their proximity Junmyeon saw it. “I won’t be upset. Tell me, Jun. What’s stopping you from sleeping?”

The question seemed much more than what Junmyeon could answer. He took in a deep breath. “Each time I try to close my eyes, I just see... his face. My student’s face,”

He didn’t know what kind of reaction he’d expected from his husband, but it definitely wasn’t none at all. Yifan stared at him with interest, but other than that, he didn’t look mad or upset. He squeezed his waist as a sign to continue. So Junmyeon did.

“I tried not to think about it, really, and I know you told me you hadn’t hurt him, but I… I’m sorry, Yifan, I just can’t get his face out of my mind. I tried, believe me, but my own thoughts are betraying me. And I feel so bad, and I’m so _tired,_ ”

He felt even more exhausted by the end of his small rant, like it’d taken all his breath to say so much. He didn’t feel like he could look Yifan in the eye at the moment. He felt guilty of something he didn’t even know. Junmeyon’s emotions were too conflicting and confusing for him to understand.

Yifan remained quiet. He removed his arm from around his waist, and Junmyeon though he’d really upset him then, despite a part of him telling him that it was Yifan’s fault in the first place he was so troubled.

The now removed arm moved lower, however, and Yifan’s palm was coming closer and closer to the front of his pants.

“Wait, Yifan, no, I don’t want to- right now,” he tried to say as the other started petting and stroking over his crotch. His other arm went underneath Junmyeon’s body and over his back, keeping him in a half hug against his husband.

“It’ll help you,” came the blunt answer.

“How can this help me? Yifan, what are you-“ he wiggled against him, the stroking and grabbing now more ardent against the front of his sleeping pants.

“It will relax you, Jun. Then you’ll be able to sleep,”

Junmyeon couldn’t believe his ears as the other’s voice registered. Yifan’s hand moved from caressing him through his clothes to trying to remove them, tugging the pants down enough so he could free Junmyeon’s member.

“Yifan, no-“ he breathed out as the other touched him, skin to skin.

“Just relax, Junmyeon. Let me help you unwind,”

Junmyeon was too tired to shove the other away. He tried to focus on the sensation of the slow, up-and-down movement over his cock. The tension was quickly leaving him, but Junmyeon was not able to fully relax.

His eyes slipped shut in an effort to immerse himself into the other’s hold. But that proved to be a big mistake, as his eyes shut open straight after.

“Yifan-!” he cried out terrified.

“Stop thinking about him, Jun,” he said with a squeeze at the base of his cock, tightening his grip slowly and only letting go at Junmyeon’s moan of both pleasure and pain. “Think of me instead,” his hand settled into a stroking motion again, his palm dragging over the underside of Junmyeon’s cock.

“Think of me,” he whispered again as he stroked over the head, his lips kissing Junmyeon’s forehead. “Think of me now, I’m the one with you, touching you, pleasuring you,” his words, coupled with his thumb circling his slit ripped a moan out of Junmyeon’s throat. He struggled to keep his eyes open against the desire to close them.

“Look at me,” he requested, his voice as dark as the room, as sure as always. “Look at me, Jun,” he said with another harsh squeeze against the base.

He finally looked at him then, his eyes staring into his husband’s. The stroking turned gentle again, the sensation leaving Junmyeon breathless in their bed.

“Every time you see him in your head,” he began with another stroke from base to tip, “I want you to think of me,” his teased his slit again, barely pressing against it, not letting him fully enjoy the sensation before it was gone. “Think of my face when his appears in your mind,” his thumb stroked just underneath the crown of his cock, a touch firm enough that he’d feel it, light enough that he’d want more of it.

“Think of me, Junmyeon, think only of me,” His pace quickened, moans and sighs now slipping freely out of Junmyeon’ throat. He was beginning to get hotter, his shirt feeling rough against his heating skin.

Yifan didn’t stop for one second, his hand in a continuous motion, his words keeping him anchored to what was happening now, between them. Yifan had never been a man of many words, Junmyeon’s brain supplied, and he was being uncharacteristically chatty now. He barely noticed it as he drowned in the pleasure the other was giving him.

He didn’t know for how long it went on. Yifan knew him and his body so well. A squeeze and a long stroke would elicit a long, drawn out moan, while a slight touch to the head of his cock would leave him whimpering. A slow pace made him sigh sweetly, while a quicker movement would make him pant. Yifan seemed determined to pleasure him and put him to sleep, his hand around his back stroking in similar patterns to the one on his cock.

“Are you getting close, Junmyeon?” the deep baritone of his voice was making Junmyeon’s face flush.

“Yes, Yifan,” he managed to whisper around a moan.

The other hummed, a sound that settled right into his crotch, bringing him closer and closer to the peak of his pleasure. “Come whenever you’re ready, love,”

His lips finally settled over Junmyeon’s, swallowing down his moans and whimpers. He moved his hand faster, tasting his lips one more time before he pulled away.

“Who are you thinking of, Jun?” his eyes looked straight into his, his stare heavy.

“You, Yifan,”

He sketched a smile, his gaze only darkening. Soon enough, Junmyeon was getting closer and closer, ready to fall into his pleasure with only a few words.

When it finally happened, his eyes slipped closed, Yifan continuing to stroke him through his orgasm. His touch was gentler now, coaxing him to give him everything. He only stopped when Junmyeon whined at the overstimulation, removing his soiled hand from underneath the blanket to wipe Junmyeon’s spent on a tissue.

He could barely breathe as he watched Yifan clean up and get back in his previous position. His hand went around Junmyeon’s waist again, now having him fully engulfed into a hug.

Junmyeon felt drowsy now, the afterglow buzzing pleasantly under his skin. With his forehead against the other’s chest, he could hear Yifan’s heartbeat clearly, a strong sound that lulled him more into slumber.

“Do you feel better now?” Yifan’s chest rumbled with the question.

“Yes,” he breathed out, moving his hand to rest against the other’s waist as well. “Thank you,” he muttered, sleep overtaking him.

He thought he’d heard the other whisper “You’re welcome”, but he couldn’t be sure.

When Junmyeon woke up the next morning, he was alone in their bed. The light was just sipping through the closed drapes. He checked him phone to see it was only 9 a.m. He kind of wished he’d slept more.

He felt better than yesterday, but still tired to some degree. He’d enjoyed the dreamless sleep Yifan put him under, but it seemed to be of little effectiveness. He sighed discouraged and got out of bed.

When he stepped into the kitchen, he saw his husband at the table, several papers and documents scattered over the surface. He was drinking coffee while looking over them, and Junmyeon could sense the faint smell of cigarettes smoke in the air. He wanted to scold the other, but he didn’t have enough energy for it. He’d never really believed Yifan would give up on them.

“Good morning,” he greeted the other and went to sit by him. For some reason, he craved his closeness.

Yifan looked up at him, his usual scowl being quickly replaced with a large smile. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

“Better, I guess. But still somehow tired,”

Yifan looked worriedly at him. “Do you want me to make you some tea? Maybe it’ll help you feel better?”

Junmyeon eyes Yifan’s coffee cup with interest. He could admit he rather missed the taste of coffee, even if he hadn’t as much as had a sip in over a year. His mouth was watering only by the rich smell of it.

But it would only make him more anxious. That’s why he stopped drinking it in the first place. “Yes, please. Some tea would be nice,”

As Yifan was preparing his cup, Junmyeon scanned over the papers on the table. Most of them were in Chinese, he noticed, with a few in English. He couldn’t make out most of the words despite knowing both languages well enough to hold a conversation. They must be technical terms, he concluded.

His husband finally settled the cup in front of him, the sweet smell pulling a smile out of him. He drank slowly as Yifan continued his work, the silence between them more comfortable than yesterday. It was nice, he decided. His home felt again like it used to. It no longer seemed too cold or too big.

Junmyeon still felt troubled, however. He really wished there was someone he could talk to, someone impartial that would tell him if what he was feeling and thinking was unwarranted. Changmin and Minho were out of the question. He loved his friends deeply, but he couldn’t risk saying something that would put them in danger. Yifan was out of the question too, since he was the root to Junmyeon’s distress. That didn’t leave him with many options, unfortunately.

“Yifan?” Junmyeon asked as an idea popped into his head. He’d ask for the other’s help. He knew Yifan wouldn’t refuse him since he wanted to redeem himself.

“Hmm?”

“I want you to find me a doctor.”

Yifan’s eyes looked at him confused. “What?” he muttered.

“I want you to find me a doctor.” Junmyeon repeated, taking another sip of his tea. The hot liquid ran down his throat, warming him up, from the tips of his fingers to the base of his spine.

The other took a few moments to find an answer. “I can talk to Yixing if you wan-“

“No, Yifan,” Junmyeon interrupted, “Someone that doesn’t know you or me. I want a doctor we don’t know.”

The older took even longer to respond now, his face seemingly stuck in a half confused, half worried expression. “Like a psychiatrist?”

Junmyeon pondered it. “Yes, I guess so.”

The confusion was quickly gone from Yifan’s face, now entirely stuck with worry. “Are you sure everything is alright, Jun? Is there something you haven’t been telling me?”

“I just want someone to talk to, it’s all. Someone impartial, and I don’t know that someone.”

“And are you sure this is what you want? A psychiatrist to talk to?”

“Who better?” he asked, irritation slowly sipping into his voice. “I can look for one myself, if you won’t help. I thought you’d appreciate it if I let you chose someone you deem good and discreet enough, for obvious reasons.”

“I’m just worried for you, Junmyeon, that’s all.” He explained, his expression pained. Junmyeon fell a pang of compassion for the other, but stood his ground. If he’d learned something from Yifan all these years, it was definitely stubbornness.

“But if it’s what you truly want, I will help you, of course. I’ll find someone for you, Jun.” he said with a smile, his gaze soft.

“Thank you,” he sipped his tea again, in a better mood now. Another idea came to his mind, but he quickly dismissed it, until the horrible nightmares from the previous two nights came back to him.

“There’s something else I’d like, Yifan.”

“What is it?”

“Can you get me sleeping pills?”

Now Yifan looked even more worried. “Junmyeon,” he began, tone cautious, “are you sure? Those things create dependency, and who knows what other side effects they have. I don’t think they are safe.”

“I’m sure Yixing wouldn’t give you anything that was dangerous. And yes, I’m sure. I don’t want to go through another night where I’m struggling to even close my eyes. You don’t wanna know how horrible it was yesterday at work.”

“Wait, you didn’t sleep a night ago either? Junmyeon…”

The younger of the two sighed. “Why did you think I was so tired yesterday?”

Yifan stayed quiet for a while, deep in his thoughts. “Alright, I will… I will ask Yixing for something. But if he says they are too dangerous, I won’t give them to you. We’ll find something else then.”

Junmyeon smiled. “Okay. Thank you. And I promise I’ll only take them when things are really bad and you aren’t around to help. Does that put you at ease a little?”

Yifan sighed in relief, a wide grin spreading over his face. “It does, yeah.”

They were silent after that, Junmyeon drinking the rest of his tea, while Yifan read over his documents. Fatigue was starting to seep back into Junmyeon’s bones. He thought he’d go back to sleep after he was done with his drink.

 

*

 

Jongin looked down at the bills scattered in front of him. He didn’t even have the energy for tears anymore. Crying never seemed to help him.

He had his old, ragged notebook next to him, numbers and subtractions flooding the page. He bit on the end of the pen anxiously, the wood almost giving away to the pressure of his teeth. He looked back at the bills, then back again at his calculations.

They were definitely not doing well, even with the extra working hours his mother took. It simply didn’t pay enough for 3 people, one of which was sick and another who went to college. His sister had suggested getting a job as well, but Jongin had been against it, saying how she needed to focus on her studies instead of working a minimum wage job that wouldn’t be of much help.

The money that month was particularly tight. The doctors changed his mother’s medicine, and that always got paid first. Then it was Jiyoon’s college fees, their debts, then food, and last were the bills. There was no room for any other type of spending.

Jongin, now being the man of the house, was seriously thinking of changing that pattern and swapping the bills with the food. He ate the least in the house, so he wouldn’t be too affected, but his mother and sister couldn’t go with less, especially with his mother’s condition and Jiyoon’s studying.

Jongin was grateful though. Since he’d started working under Chanyeol, he brought in more money. Still, his promotion came with the wedding of his eldest sister Jeongja and her moving out of the house, therefore taking her part of the income out as well. Jongin’s small addition was not enough to cover it; not that they were doing too well before that either. Poor Jeongja only got a small ceremony at the city hall.

He was seriously starting to think of selling whatever was somehow valuable in the house. His mother and sister would be against it surely, but there was nothing else Jongin could think of. The last time they cut off their electricity he’d almost zapped himself trying to tie the cables back together.

He kept their finances a relative secret from the two women, hiding the dreaded notebook in places he knew they wouldn’t look. They knew they didn’t have enough money, but not just how bad the situation was. He didn’t want to make them worried, and stress was the last thing they needed. His mother’s health was getting worse, and Jiyoon was already stressing herself enough with college.

“Jongin? Is everything alright, dear?” his mother asked. She’d settled the ironing table in the kitchen so she could be done with the clothes while listening to the news. The small TV in the kitchen was the only one they had in their house. They had to sell the bigger one in the living room for Jeongja’s wedding. The one that stayed was older than Jongin himself, and he doubted it could even cover one bill if he were to sell it.

“Yes, mom. Everything is fine, don’t worry,” he said with a smile, hoping it looked reassuring enough. He most definitely did not feel reassured.

The woman mirrored his smile, but Jongin could see it didn’t reach her eyes. “How can I not worry when you’re almost crying over those damned bills?”

“It’s not so bad, mom. We’ll pull through,” he replied, a glimmer of hope shining in his gaze. He had to pull through. If not him, then who else?

“I really wish you’d let me get another job, Jongin. I can still work, you know?”

Jongin frowned at her, but thankfully she was too occupied with the clothes she was ironing to notice. “The doctor said you’re already working too much, mom. You’re definitely not getting another job,”

“But you can’t do all the work all the time, Jonginnie. You’re overworking yourself, coming home in the wee hours, and then leaving again. It’s not fair on you, either.” The woman said, compassion and love palpable in her voice.

Jongin felt bad, guilty almost. His work was nowhere near as demanding as his mother believed it to be. Dangerous, because of who he was associating himself with, definitely, but not physically demanding. He kept his actual occupation a secret, of course, instead telling his mother and sister that he took all sorts of small jobs that paid accordingly to their difficulty.

He was lucky Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had a soft spot for him; his boss definitely overpaid him for what little he did, and Kyungsoo was always kind enough to give him food to even take home some nights. Not that he’d eat it though, choosing instead to leave it for the other two. He told them someone at work bought too much and offered it to him. He guessed I wasn’t an actual lie.

“Please don’t worry mom. I’m not taking on more than I can manage.”

“What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t worry, Jonginnie?” she asked in a light and joking tone, but Jongin caught the sadness in her eyes. He chose to ignore it, knowing his mother didn’t like appearing weak. Not that she was; in Jongin’s eyes, his mother was the strongest person he’d ever known.

They kept their silence for a while, until there was a knock on the door. Jongin didn’t pay much attention to it. It was probably Mrs. Lee from across the hall, and Jongin knew he’d paid back the money he owed her from that one time they couldn’t afford to buy rice, so he didn’t have anything to worry over. Well, other than their disastrous financial situation.

His mother went to answer the door, settling the iron carefully on the table. Jongin eyed it, wondering if they could perhaps iron with something else. How much could an iron be worth anyway? Probably less that the old, tiny TV.

“Oh, hello.” He heard his mother say to whoever it was at the door. Maybe he could ask Chanyeol for a small loan? No, he couldn’t do that. He already felt bad for getting paid so much only for driving him around, he couldn’t burrow money from him too. He didn’t even know when he’d be able to pay him back.

“Good morning, ma’am. I have a delivery for Mr. Kim Jongin. Is this his residence?” a monotonous voice said. Jongin froze in his seat, the pen still in his mouth. What was going on?

“Oh, yes, he lives here. Jonginnie, look-”

Before his mother even finished what she’d wanted to say, Jongin was out of his seat and walking with a few long strides towards the door. His heart was racing. He’d seen enough movies to know that people involved with crime bosses did not just get random deliveries.

When he reached the door, eyes wide and crazed, he was welcomed by a sight he most definitely didn’t expect.

A bouquet of white flowers, larger than the one Jeongja had at her wedding.

“Mr. Kim Jongin?” the man asked him, and Jongin finally took in his appearance. He had a uniform on, topped off with a small hat with the flower company’s logo on it. He was a delivery man.

“I think this is a mistake.” Jongin said, trying to ignore his mother’s curious and confused gaze.

“You are not Mr. Kim Jongin?” the delivery man asked, checking his clipboard.

“I am, but this can’t be for me-“ he protested before the man shoved the clipboard in his face.

“This is your address, isn’t it?”

He looked at the address on the paper, his mother sneaking glances over his shoulder.

“It really is our address…” his mother whispered in awe.

“Then these are for you, Mr. Kim,” The man extended the bouquet towards him, but Jongin could only watch in surprise. Who in the world would send him flowers? His mother graciously took them instead.

“White camellias and carnations. Have a nice day sir, ma’am.”

He closed the door after the delivery man, not knowing what to believe. He turned to his mother, who had the largest smile he’d seen in ages in her face.

“Aren’t they beautiful, Jongin?” her voice sounded so happy, Jongin didn’t have the heart to disagree with her.

“They are, mom.”

They truly were. He didn’t know much about flowers, but he could admit they were beautiful.

“There’s a note for you, dear. Must be from the person who sent them,” she said, plucking a small, pink note from between the sea of white flowers. “There you go,” she handed him the note. “I’ll go look for the vase. Such beautiful flowers deserve the nice vase,”

Jongin was left confused in the kitchen, looking dumbfounded at the large bouquet, then back at the little note his mother said came with it.

 

**“You’re like lightning, a flash of light;  
The world is lit up, then hidden again.”**

**\- Lay**

 

He stared at the note, not knowing what to make of it. He had no idea who this ‘Lay’ was, or how he knew him or where he lived. He thought to all the people he knew with a similar name, and when he came empty handed, he thought of all the people whose names began with ‘L’. Luhan was the first one that came to mind, but quickly whisked that thought away. That was a dumb assumption.

Before Jongin could contemplate the identity of the sender, his mother came back with the flower vase. “These will look so beautiful here, Jongin! Did you find out who they’re from?”

Jongin couldn’t find it in himself to continue to be skeptical when his mother was looking so joyful. Her smile was brighter than the sun as she put the bouquet in the vase and set in on the counter.

“It’s someone from work, I think.” He replied, sharing her smile when she looked at him. “They signed under an alias though, so I’m not sure who it is.”

“Ahh, my boy has a secret admirer!” she exclaimed happily, clapping her hands in excitement.

“I’m sure it’s not like that, mom,” he said, but didn’t argue any further. If the flowers made her so happy, he really didn’t care who this ‘Lay’ was. Jongin would have to thank him for bringing such delight to his mother.

Looking at the white array of flowers again, he thought they looked really out of place on their old, chipped kitchen counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!
> 
> Fun fact, I'm really fascinated by dreams and their meanings, and one of the interpretations of dreaming blood on clothes is that someone is lying to you, or will lie to you. 
> 
> I have no idea what Jongin's sisters' names are, so I just put in two names that I liked that started with J. Jeongja in particular sounded especially cool.Feel free to google where those lines are from, or what's the meaning of the flowers Jongin gets. I'd tell you, but where's the fun in that??
> 
> In the next chapter, Yifan and Yixing get a pov. I'll try to get it out as soon as I can. Please look forward to it ^^


End file.
